


Stiles' Anatomy: Operations

by JesseCrave



Series: Stiles' Anatomy [1]
Category: Grey's Anatomy, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Based on Grey's Anatomy, F/M, Grey's Anatomy References, M/M, Multi, Stiles basically as Meredith Grey, Teen Wolf, The Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 80,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesseCrave/pseuds/JesseCrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ultimate melding of Teen Wolf and Grey's Anatomy. I use the scripts from Grey's Anatomy to basically retell the events of that world with the characters from Teen Wolf, with some TW plot mentioned and used as well. There's also original storylines going on as well. Starring Stiles as Meredith Grey and Derek as Derek Shepherd. This is just for fun.</p><p>Stiles' dream was always to be a surgeon, but will a one night stand get in the way when his late night rendezvous turns out to be his boss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Guy From The Bar

His eyelids fluttered as his slumber, unfortunately, came to an end. As he felt the all too familiar hard pressing springs of the couch that resided in his living room, Stiles was trying to remember exactly why he had fallen asleep on the couch instead of in his incredibly comfortable king sized bed upstairs in his bedroom.

And then, he got a friendly reminder to his question. From the stranger lying completely naked on the living room floor.

The naked stranger stirred in his sleep slightly, grunting as he writhed on the carpet, allowing Stiles a full view of his sculpted back muscles and his adorably perfect ass. Like cascading water, it all came back to Stiles, all the flooding images from last night when they had met at the bar. The man had bought Stiles a drink, they flirted, and…here they were.

He kind of wish they had time for another quick taste of last night before his first day of work at the hospital. Crap. The hospital. Stiles searched for his phone, finally finding it next to the guy's discarded jeans. If he hurried, he wouldn't be late. He really wanted to just get out of there, take a shower, and get to work. His first day as a surgical intern was kind of really important. Wrapping himself in the blanket he had slept with, Stiles wrapped his naked form in its thread before grabbing a pillow from the couch and plopping it on the stranger's ass, earning him a grunt and a stirring that caused him to wake up.

Stiles then began to grab his clothes off of the floor as the stranger began to get up. He had made his way next to the stairs when he locked eyes with the man.

"Hey," the guy smiled at him as he finally got to his feet, looking over Stiles hungrily. "This is..."

"Kind of really humiliating?" Stiles' face squished together like his ego as he nodded. "You need to go."

"Why don't we continue," the man walked forward a few steps and seductively wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Stiles. "What we started last night."

A little proud of himself, Stiles laughed, running a hand through his short post-sex hair. "As great as that sounds, you really have to go. I'm kind of running late. And considering it's my first day at my new job, that's not something I'd like to be."

The man had just clasped his jeans together, Stiles swooning slightly at the sight of the denim hugging his hips perfectly, when he noticed the boxes in the corner of the living room. "So, you live here?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" the man smiled.

"I just moved here a couple of weeks ago from Hanover. It's the house my mother grew up in, but I'm selling it."

"I'm sorry to hear that." he said, pulling his shirt over his abs that Stiles was hoping he was getting to see for at least a couple more minutes.

Stiles grabbed his discarded boxer briefs from the banister of the stairs. "We don't have to do the whole Let's-Talk-About-Me, Talk-About-You exchange of details like we care or whatever. I'm gonna go grab a quick shower before I have to illegally speed to work. And you'll just be that guy from the bar who left while I was taking said shower. So, thanks for last night...um..." Stiles paused, trying to recall his name, which the stranger must have caught up on because he scoffed to himself.

"Derek."

"Derek," Stiles smiled, waving his hand around in a How-Could-I-Forget-That gesture. "Right. I'm Stiles."

"Stiles," Derek grinned. "That's short for something right?"

"Uh, like I said, let's not pretend to care." Stiles laughed.

Derek smiled. "Nice meeting you, Stiles."

Stiles grinned. "Yeah. Goodbye, Derek."

And with whatever dignity he had left, Stiles ran up the stairs of his newfound and temporary home and quickly jumped in the shower, hoping to get one last memory of the man from the bar out of his system before the rest of his life as a doctor began.

x

Though slightly late, made it on time. Stiles entered the locker room, all the new arrival interns getting their white coats on and changing into their scrubs. Stiles looked around the room. They were definitely a wide array of people, and Stiles didn't notice a single person from Dartmouth. Just then, a guy just getting his lab coat on came up to him. He dark eyes and short black hair, not to mention he had this whole puppy dog thing going on with him.

"Hey, you're Stilinski, right?" he said, just as Stiles got his scrub top over his head.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, but everyone just calls me Stiles."

The guy nodded. "I noticed you from the mixer. I'm Scott. Who's your resident?" Scott said, watching Stiles put his coat on. "I've got Ramsey."

"Nazi? Yeah, looks like we'll be tortured together." Stiles sighed. He'd only just arrived at the hospital and the notorious Dr. Ramsey already had a reputation that followed her. So naturally, that was who Stiles would be assigned to.

"Though I'm really appalled by the name, I got the Nazi too." A perky little redhead with green eyes came striding over to them. "Lydia Martin, Stanford."

Stiles grinned at her. "Welcome to the torture chamber."

Just then, another doctor that was issuing interns to their residents came into the locker room. "Martin, McCall, Stilinski, Argent, Lahey."

Watching, Stiles saw a cute brunette with cropped hair and a seriously adorable dirty blonde guy with semi-curly hair join them, following Lydia down the hall. She reached the doctor who had called their names.

"Are you Ramsey?" She asked him bluntly.

"By the nurse's station."

Stiles and his newly formed torture-mates, followed the doctor's gesture to a petite ebony goddess of a doctor with short black hair.

"That this Nazi that everyone is talking about?" Argent commented.

"I was expecting a German guy." Lahey quipped.

"It's probably a power play. She's probably the best of her class and jealousy earned her a nasty nickname, just like me." Lydia smiled.

Stiles burst through them to get their resident before the Nazi did a roll call or whatever and decided to call them by their first names, something Stiles was really adamant about avoiding.

"Hi," he said to her curtly, putting out his hand in a warm greeting. "I'm Stilinski, but everyone just calls me Stiles." He kept waiting for her to shake it with a slight annoyance, but Dr. Ramsey just looked at him like she really could care less.

"I have five rules, memorize them. Rule number one: Don't bother sucking up. I already hate you, that's not gonna change." She paused to point toward the nurse's station desk, where five pagers were eagerly awaiting a new master. "Trauma protocol. Phone lists. Pagers. Nurses will page you."

Ramsey starts walking away from the desk. Lydia, obviously, at least to Stiles, being the smart one, grabbed the pager off of the desk and began to follow their resident, with everyone else soon following suit and running to keep up with Ramsey's quick pace around the surgical floor.

"You answer every page as a run, a run! That's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours. You're interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, you write orders; work every second night until you drop and don't complain." Before Stiles and the rest of them knew it, Ramsey was opening up an on-call room for them to look into, leaving little to the imagine with the room's small capacity big enough for, literally, just a bunk bed. "On call rooms. Attendings hog them. Sleep when you can, where you can. Which brings me to rule number three. If I'm sleeping, don't wake me unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed someone, you would have woken me for no good reason. We clear?" Stiles immediately raised his hand. "Yes?"

"You said five rules. That was only four."

As if by magic, Dr. Ramsey's pager went blaring its existence away at the group.

"Rule number five. When I move, you move." Ramsey started running down the hall, yelling at people to move out of her way as she lead her new interns up onto the helipad. Once Lydia and Allison brought the gurney towards the landing helicopter, they waited for the EMT to tell them who their first patient was going to be.

One that just so happened to be seizing.

"Rick Barbara, twenty-five-year-old male. New onset seizures. Intermittent for the past week. IV lost in route and started grand mal seizing as we descended."

Stiles and his fellow interns worked on getting Rick onto the hospital bed, nurses plugging up all the machines as Ramsey looked over his chart. "Turn him on his side, Lahey." She watched as Lydia was already administering the precise dosage of diazepam without even being instructed, causing her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. She then looked at Scott. "No, the white lead is on the right side. Righty, whitey. Smoke over fire. Martin, a large boar IV, don't let the blood haemolyse. Let's go, people."

Rick stopped seizing as soon as Lydia got the diazepam into his system. A very suave doctor with his hair slicked back walked into the room.

"I hear we got a seal washed up on shore." he smiled at Ramsey.

"Absolutely, Dr. Hale."

Stiles looked the attending over. He seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place why.

"Dr. Ramsey, let's shotgun." Hale said, writing on the patient's chart before handing it back to Ramsey.

Nodding, Ramsey looked to her interns. "That means-"

"Every test in the book." Lydia shot up. "CT, CBC, CHEM-7, TOX screen."

Ramsey chuckled to herself as she handed Lydia the chart. "Well, this is sorry." Ramsey said to the others. "She's just making y'all look bad. Lydia, you're on labs. Scott, patient work ups. Isaac, head to the Pit for incoming ER, and Stiles, get Rick for a CT. He's your responsibility now." And with that, Ramsey starts walking out of the room.

"Wait," Allison spoke up, waiting as the resident turned around. "What about me?"

"Argent? Honey, you get to do rectal exams."

Without any other words, Ramsey sauntered out of the room, leaving each of her interns sighing and ready for the end of the next forty-eight hours.

x

A little while later, Lydia was standing up on her toes trying to peer into the OR that Ramsey was in, trying to sneak a peek at the surgery going on. Spotting her, Ramsey took off her mask, opened the door, and look at Lydia like she was a child.

"What?"

"Rick Barbara's labs came out clear. Can't find any reason that could be causing his seizures. I came to you the second they came out."

"Okay." Ramsey seriously had a dagger of a personality, at least as far as Lydia could tell.

"I hear that every year, the on-call attending gets to pick the best intern to scrub in during the first intern shift." Ramsey, less than amused, just continues to stare right through the overachieving redhead. "Just something I heard."

"Go away."

Taking a beat and realizing that Ramsey was serious, Lydia spun on her heels and went in the opposite direction, hoping not to piss off her resident anymore for the rest of this shift.

x

In the elevator, Stiles was pushing Rick around, trying to find his way around the massive hospital. Needless to say, he definitely wasn't going to admit defeat so easily. Rick, sat up in the gurney, smiles at his doctor.

"Dude, you're totally lost."

"Definitely not." The elevator doors dinged open, and Stiles started pushing the patient once again. "Feeling better?"

"Other than missing my gig, I'm great."

"A gig? Is it safe to assume that you're a musician?"

Rick gave him an adorable smile. Stiles had to admit that, with Rick's dirty blonde hair and beard, his was ruggedly hot. Not that Stiles should be thinking about that sort of thing as he was supposed to be wheeling his patient to CT, which he had yet to find.

"Yeah, I finally had a gig at this really popular coffee shop here in Seattle, my first solo debut, and my brain had to go and ruin it."

Stiles smiled. "We're going to do our best to try and fix that."

He grinned back at him. "If all goes well, maybe we could celebrate over dinner?"

Trying his best not to let the forwardness shock him, Stiles just chuckled to himself, turning back around to go down another hallway. "I don't think the hospital takes too kindly to doctors dating patients, Rick."

"Who says they have to know?" he winked. "And please, everyone calls me Barbie."

Stiles just grinned again. God, he was on such a hot streak. First the guy from the bar last night and now a patient was asking him out within a twelve-hour period? Stud status.

"You go by a name based on your last name?" Stiles questioned.

Barbie nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"No, it's cool. I just, don't meet too many people who do that too." when Barbie gave him an eyebrow raise as they turned down, yet again, another hallway, Stiles continued. "Last name is Stilinski, but I rather people call me Stiles."

"Stiles. Cute. Now, you never answered me about our date."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles finally wheeled down a populated hallway and decided to ask someone for help, severing his pride so that he could get this patient back to his gig.

x

Back inside a patient's room, Scott was having the hardest time getting his patient's IV to go into his arm. Striding past the room, Dr. Peter Hale noticed the struggling intern and decided to help out. Scott noticed that he was the attending from before and gave him a smile.

"Stubborn vein." Scott laughed.

"Move." Peter said bluntly.

"The first day's never easy." Scott joked again.

Within seconds. Peter had the IV perfect. He turned around and looked up at Scott, smirking defiantly. "It's my first day here too, even if I am an attending." He stood up, and just as he walked out of the door, he whispered back. "I just happen to not be an idiot."

The patient just looked at Scott and tried to hide a laugh, but Scott just smiled. "We go way back." He lied, laughing to cover up his shame.

x

Several hours later, the group of interns were finally granted the serenity of a lunch break. Scott made his way to the table with a tray full of sweets and carbs, which is exactly what he felt like he needed to ingest after working up so many patients. He joined Allison and Lydia at their table and slammed down into his chair.

"I never knew putting in IV's and drawing blood could be so exhausting."

"Try doing seventeen rectal exams in a row. Seventeen." Allison ran a hand through her relatively short brown hair. "I can't even eat a thing."

"You should. We have forty-one more hours to go."

"Which probably means forty-one more rectal exams. The Nazi hates me." Allison sighed, laying her head down on the table.

"Better than attendings. Hale hates me, if it makes you feel better." Allison groaned as Scott reached over and rubbed her shoulder while Lydia finished chewing her Granny Smith apple.

"Do you guys know that Stilinski is inbred?"

"Who doesn't have a doctor in the family? What's the big deal?" Allison said, lifting her head up.

"No, practically royally. His parents are two of the bests, Asher Stilinski and Claudia Leigh."

Allison's mouth dropped open. "The Claudia Leigh?"

Scott looked around the room, making sure he wasn't going to speak too loud. "Who?"

"Where the hell did you go to med school?" Lydia quaffed.

Allison laughed, looking into Scott's puppy dog eyes before going on. "Asher was great, but Claudia was one of elites. She practically invented the abdominal laparotomy."

"She won the Harper Avery, twice!" Lydia screamed with excitement, probably plotting her own ways to get one of her own.

"So what happened?" Scott asked.

Lydia and Allison exchanged looks, both refusing to go on. And it just so happened that Stiles was approaching them with Isaac as soon as the conversation was dropped.

"You're full of it." Isaac laughed at Stiles as they sat down.

"Did you get chosen for the surgery!?" Lydia said, completely serious and half devastated already by the mere thought of her losing.

"Isaac's jealous that I'm the first one of us to get hit on by a patient."

"What?" Allison smiled. "Was it that seizure guy?"

Before Stiles could answer, Dr. Hale came up to them. "Good afternoon, everyone. As I'm sure you all know, every year the honor of performing the first surgery is given to the intern that shows the most promise, the most tenacity. Since it's my surgery, I get to pick the winner." He smiled at them and at neighboring interns before clasping Scott on the back.

"Scott McCall."

Lydia looked like she was going to vomit. Isaac looked disappointed. Allison couldn't care less after all the rectal exams. Stiles laughed and shook Scott playfully. Looking up at Peter, Scott nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"You'll scrub in on an appy this afternoon. Come prepared." Peter smiled once more before leaving the cafeteria, leaving everyone to sigh or roll their eyes at the announcement.

"Me?" Scott said, his tone full of shock.

Lydia sighed before getting up with her tray. "Unfortunately."

x

As Stiles kept laughing at all of Barbie's continued advances while maintaining his chart, he heard a scuffle outside, causing his attention to be averted. Just then, a nurse escorted an older could into the room.

"Oh Richard, thank God!" the graying blonde screeched before sidelining Stiles out of the way. The man just stood by the bed and clasped Barbie's shoulder.

"How are you feeling son?"

"I'd feel a lot better if you weren't cockblocking me right now."

Stiles burst out in a fit of laughter, which caused Barbie's parents to look at him like he should have left the room upon their arrival. "Sorry," Stiles said immediately. "I'm his doctor, one of his doctors, Dr. Stilinski." he put out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Mrs. Barbara turned and shook his hand. "Our doctor at home said he could need a major operation."

"What kind of operation?" his father asked.

"Um," Stiles stammered, which was exactly what he didn't want to be doing in front of the parents of his first patient. "I'm not the doctor doctor, I mean, I'm a real doctor and everything, that's totally not what I meant. I actually graduated from Dartmouth, pretty good honors too and-"

"Stiles!" Barbie chuckled.

"Right. I'm going to get another doctor, the one that didn't just start today and isn't me and everything." Stiles hoped he wasn't sweating too obviously as Barbie's parents just stared at him the entire time he left Barbie's room and ran to try and find his resident.

Near the stairwell, he spotted Ramsey, thankful to have caught her at a free moment.

"Just the woman I was looking for."

"What's wrong?" Ramsey said, giving him the eyes of disdain.

"Barbie's, I mean, Mr. Barbara's parents have all these questions and I have zero idea how to answer them."

"Rick's case belongs to our new attending, Dr. Hale."

"Oh, the attending that ordered the shotgun?"

Ramsey shook her head. "That's Dr. Peter Hale. His nephew is also a new attending here. He's over there."

As Ramsey walked away, Stiles followed her gaze to see a doctor smiling a couple of nurses as he handed them a chart. And Stiles was surprised he hadn't heard a Code Blue for himself. Dr. Hale was Derek. The guy from the bar last night. The guy he had kicked out of his house this morning. Not knowing what to do, Stiles just stood there, really trying to decide what to do, but Derek glanced over at him once, then away. The double take Derek did was one filled with shock and awe, Stiles could read that much on his face. As soon as their eyes lock, Stiles headed into the stairwell, avoiding the conversation he was sure to follow the type of awkward cosmic coincidence that had just plagued Stiles' life.

"Stiles!" he heard Derek hollering from behind him as he opened the door to the stairwell and started to ascend them. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek wasn't letting him get away that easy. Once he was on the second platform, just before he was about to go up the second flight of stairs, Derek caught his arm and spun him around.

"Dr. Hale, this isn't-" Stiles started, looking around and hoping no one was needing to use the stairwell while he had a private conversation with his boss.

"Dr. Hale? This morning you barely remembered my name and now it's 'Dr. Hale'?"

Stiles sighed. "Last night? It never happened. As far as anyone knows, we both went home alone. I mean, not home together, just alone. Separately. By ourselves."

"Never happened? Which part? The part where I split your shirt in half or the part where you took my underwear off with your teeth?" Derek paused to give him a superior smile, one Stiles scoffed at. "Because both are memories I'd like to hold on to for days when I actually do go home alone."

"You were supposed to stay a stranger. Just the guy from the bar," running a hand through his hair, Stiles was still waiting for someone to catch them. "This can't happen. We never happened? Understand?" Stiles gave Derek his best serious face, but Derek just looked as smug as ever.

"I can be the guy from the bar again. We can still be strangers. Be a stranger with me again tonight. Eight?"

Stiles couldn't believe this guy. Did he not understand that he was the literal boss of him? Derek may have been calling the shots last night but this was completely ridiculous. "No. You're an attending, and I'm your intern." Stiles couldn't really tell if Derek was listening or not because his eyes kept scanning over his body. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like you've seen me naked." Derek chuckled but Stiles put his hand up. "This is crazy."

Without another word, Stiles went back down the stairs. "Stiles," Derek pleaded, but with the slamming of the door, Stiles left his boss to, hopefully, forget that they had ever met last night.

x

While Scott was down in the OR, ready to assist Peter with the appendectomy, Stiles was finding a seat in the gallery. Out of all the interns, someone from Stiles' group of interns was selected, and he definitely didn't want to miss it if at all possible.

"He looks like a choker," Stiles heard a fellow intern squabble about Scott, who was wiping his brow of sweat and nerves. "Probably gonna run away screaming at the first incision."

"I think he looks like a fainter. He'll join the guy right there on the table." Another one laughed.

"I say he'll cry," Stiles heard Lydia quip as she took her seat, Isaac standing near the doorway laughing. "He looks like way too much of a puppy to be good at this."

"Or maybe he'll do better than any of you could." Stiles said, turning around to meet their faces. "He's one of us, the first one of us to do this. Have some comradery."

"Seventy-five bucks says he mispronounces something." Lydia laughed again. Stiles smiled a little, but was really hoping that Scott would prove them all wrong just as Allison took a seat next to him.

"Good luck, Scott." She whispered to Stiles as they started.

Peter joined Scott at the table and gave him a wink. "Let's see how much you're going to make me regret choosing you, McCall. Let's begin."

Nodding, Scott looked to the nurse. "Scalpel."

The interns started to laugh at Hale's comment, with Lydia shaking her head. "Hale is something else."

"More pressure," Peter told Scott, whom was quite obviously nervous about making the first cut. "Dig in."

As instructed, Scott continues on with the incision. "Pick-ups." a scrub nurse quickly handed them to him, and gave him the clamp when he reached out his hand for a second time. "I'm in."

"I told you," Stiles smiled. "He's got this."

"Assuming he doesn't screw up." Lydia laughed.

Scott made another incision and perfectly extracted the inflamed appendix.

"Appendix out." Scott smiled through his scrub mask.

Stiles hooted and hollered for him as the others clapped, some actually impressed while others were just paying him the littlest ounce of respect. Peter actually gave him a raised eyebrow before nodding at him.

"Maybe you're not an idiot after all."

"Thank you, sir." Scott said. "I think."

Peter gestured to the open body cavity. "Now what?"

Scott closed his eyes for a second, an old technique he acquired while studying for the MCAT. If he focused and actually delved into his brain, most of the time he could find the answer that he was seeking.

"Invert the stump into the cecum while pulling up on the per strings light enough to not break them."

Peter smiled and nodded. "Very good, McCall."

As Scott proved that he knew what he was talking about, Stiles turned to face all the fellow interns in the gallery, making sure to lock eyes with Lydia in particular.

"Looks like you're out of seventy-five bucks, Martin."

She just scoffed and left the room, since Scott was already suctioning and finishing the appy. The other interns that had bet against Scott too began to leave the gallery, leaving Stiles, Allison, and Isaac.

"He did it." Allison smiled. "He proved them wrong for sure."

"He's a badass." Stiles agreed.

A little while later, Scott came walking into the tunnels of the hospital, a place that he got paged to only to be met by his fellow interns, Stiles bringing up the front of them with a scalpel that was in a clear box. Stiles cheered for him and handed him the box as Allison and Isaac clapped for him, spewing a "Great job, Scott" and "Awesome, dude" respectively. Even Lydia gave him a shrug and a smile, which was apparently all he was getting from her.

"Thanks, guys. Why the scalpel?"

Stiles clasped him on the shoulder. "It's the scalpel you had in the OR. It's sterile, of course, but Hale told us that it was yours to marvel over."

Scott tossed the scalpel over in his broad hands a couple times and grinned the grin that Stiles was now dubbing "The Puppy Dog" smile. Scott couldn't be prouder of himself even if he wanted to be. Not only was he the first intern to get to assist on their first shift, but he had done it successfully and with complete fluidity. He had proven that he was more than just a puppy turned doctor.

"You were awesome, dude. Congrats." Stiles smiled once more.

"Thanks." he looked over at Lydia. "I'm sorry you didn't get the surgery."

"You don't need to apologize." Allison said quickly.

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, you obviously deserved it."

Shyly, Scott smirked and nodded, but gave Lydia another glare of apology. No matter how good he felt, Scott had seen the look of despair Lydia had gotten when Hale had given him the surgery.

But Lydia gave him a small smile. "It's your time, McCall. Don't worry about me, I'll get mine." She laughed. "I always do."

A pager began to blare and each of the interns reached for theirs, but they all looked to Stiles when his breathing hitched.

"Crap. It's a 911 for Barbie."

Without another word, Stiles ran out of the tunnels, heading for the stairs and hoped he reached his patient in time. All of the other interns looked amongst each other as Lydia scoffed.

"Who the hell is Barbie?"

x

Stiles was running as fast as he could up the stairs and through the hallways of the surgical floor. "Move!" he kept yelling to the staff that blocked his way from getting to Barbie's room that much faster. But when Stiles got into the room, Barbie wasn't coding like he had thought he might have been. Or cussing out the nurses or being violent or something. He was giving Stiles his blue eyes and smiling at him real big.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm cool. I had to fake a seizure just to get her to page you."

"Barbie," Stiles breathed heavily. "You're cute and all, barking for my attention and everything like an adolescent lab, but I'm working. You can't just page me 911 if you're just looking to talk."

Barbie turned his nose up at him. "Lab? I always thought of myself as an adorable golden retriever."

"I'm serious." Stiles laughed. "I'm trying to be the best doctor I can be and I can't do that when you're paging me 911 when you want to flirt."

"Actually, I do need something."

"Alright, what is it?"

"Your phone number."

Stiles laughed and just shook his head. "If I give you my number, will you please stop paging me for things that aren't an emergency?"

"Maybe."

Sighing, Stiles whipped out a piece of paper and wrote down his number and handing it over to Barbie. "Don't tell anyone I'm doing this. I'm only doing it to shut you up, but I could get in trouble."

"Trouble would have been if my parents were right behind you listening to this entire conversation."

Immediately, Stiles whipped his head around, but was met with the door, and, thankfully, no parents. He looked back at Barbie and fought the urge to smile. "Don't do that!"

"Oh, I'm just teasing. Now, why are you still here? I thought you were working?"

Stiles laughed once more. "You're trouble." he said as he starting walking out of the room, and as he did, he heard Barbie whisper "You just can't stay away", causing Stiles to shake his head and head back to the surgical floor.

x

While she was trying to stay awake, Allison was lazily charting at the nurse's station on her patient after successfully performing a central line, much to her own surprise. As she was scribbling in some information on the patient's stats, Dr. Ramsey came up to the nurse's station, handing a nurse a file before leaning against the counter, looking completely overwhelmed.

"Dr. Ramsey?"

Ramsey looked her way and sighed before making eye contact with her. "What, Argent?"

"Why do they call you The Nazi?"

Ramsey turned around and looked around the room, causing Allison to already regret asking the question. "Why are we having this conversation?"

"I was just wondering, because you know, you're...not-"

"Go practice some medicine and go away!"

Practically falling out of her chair, Allison grabbed her chart and got out of Ramsey's field of vision as fast as she could, running down the hall until she fell right into Scott, spilling her files all over the floor.

"Perfect." She sighed.

"I'm so sorry." Scott pleaded, hands up as if he were being robbed. It was kind of cute how much of a puppy Scott was, Allison had to admit.

She smiled at it. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Me either. Let me help you."

Before she could protest, Scott was bending down on the floor to help her collect her patient's files. She scrounged up as much as she could so that he wasn't picking up the most of it, because she was still her father's daughter and she could take care of herself, but it was the sweetest thing that he wanted to help her.

Once they had everything collected, Allison looked into Scott's eyes and smiled, mimicking the one splashed upon his adorable features. She watched as his eyebrow wiggled a little bit, almost as if in interest of something he saw. Realizing that her face was getting hot, Allison shot straight up and pulled the chart to her chest as fast as she could. Scott stood up too, wondering if something was up.

"Sorry," she laughed it off. "I really should be getting back to my patient."

Scott nodded. "Right." he smiled again. "Sorry again."

"It's my fault, seriously. But thanks. Oh, and congrats on your surgery again."

He grinned that damn grin again that Allison was beginning to like way too much, way too fast for her liking. She scrunched up her face mentally at herself. This was her place of employment, not high school. Why was she feeling like such a teenager?

"See you later, Scott."

"Yeah. Later, Allison."

Cursing herself, Allison left Scott in the hallway and, even though felt as if he were staring at her ass the entire time, she smiled at their little cute interaction that had just played out before she wiped it from her face and reminded herself that she was here to be a doctor. Nothing else mattered.

Just then, Stiles came up to Scott by clasping his hand on the man's shoulder, almost scaring the literal crap out of the taller man.

"Jesus, Stiles. Scuffle your feet or something so I know you're on your way."

"I saw that, dude." Stiles laughed. "She wants it. She wants it bad."

"Shut up," Scott half-smiled, then went completely cold. "Mind your own business."

Once again, Stiles' pager goes off again, his eyes roll as he sees that it's Barbie again.

"Damn it, Barbie."

"Is that your patient?" Scott asked.

"Right now I'm not sure if he's a patient or just a child."

Stiles started walking towards the stairs, not even bothering to rush because, knowing Barbie, he just wanted to ask him which restaurant he wanted to eat at for their date. By the time Stiles made it to the hallway, he saw nurses rushing a crash cart toward Barbie's room. "Crap!" Running, Stiles slid into the room and saw Barbie convulsing on the hospital bed for real this time, his monitor going crazy.

"Where were you!?" a nurse yells at him. "He's having grand mal seizures. How do you want to proceed, Dr. Stilinski?"

"Oh my god." Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. "I thought he was...before he was kidding and-"

"Dr. Stilinski!" the nurse yelled once more as they handed him his chart.

"Right. Crap." Stiles skimmed a few things before speaking again. "How's his morazopam?"

"He's had 4 milligrams."

"Did you page Ramsey and Dr. Hale?"

"Dr. Stilinski, he's not responding to the morazopam."

"Crap." he uttered gain. "Um, Phenolbarbitol. Try Phenolbarbitol."

One of the nurses did as he instructed, but nothing happened.

"No change, Doctor."

Stiles sighed. "Page Dr. Hale."

"We already-"

"Page him again!"

Suddenly, the monitor goes flat, causing panic to slam amongst the room.

"Code blue!" a nurse screams.

"Charge paddles to 300." Stiles demands. He shocks Barbie, but nothing happens. "360. Now!" The paddles are charged again, but when Stiles shocks him, there's still no change. "Don't go like this, Barbie. Fight!" he sighs. "Charge again."

"Dr. Stilinski, after sixty seconds, you have to-"

"Charge. Again."

Reluctantly, the nurse charges the paddles to 360 once more, giving Stiles the okay to try again. He slams the paddles against Barbie's chest and hopes that this shocks him back to the land of the living. They sit there for a couple seconds that feel like hours when Barbie's monitor slowly starts to beep once more. Stiles looks to the ground and lets out a huge sigh.

"Pressure's back." the nurse charging the paddles exclaimed.

"Rate's climbing." another one said.

Out of nowhere, Derek came rushing into the room. Stiles turned to meet his eyes, and Derek looked right at him. At first, his gaze was familiar, like the stare that had ignited them at the bar last night and eventually to his house, but it was gone in an instant. His green eyes went dark and cold, and his sneer became apparent through them.

"What the hell happened to him?" he said, looking right at Stiles.

"He seized and then he flatlined and I know I should have administered something after the sixty seconds but I thought-"

"He was your responsibility! What in God's name was more important?"

"Derek-Dr. Hale, I was checking on him! But he-"

"Get out of my face. He's on my watch now." Derek's eyes scanned him over one good time, and then he looked right into Stiles' warm brown eyes and scoffed at him in disgust. "Leave. Now!"

Stiles moves out of the way as Derek orders for his chart. Stiles looked at Barbie, whom was still unconscious, and then back at Derek. He caught him glancing back at him, and he promptly shouted "Go!" while pointing toward the direction he'd rather Stiles be looking. Feeling completely guilty for not checking on Barbie in time and then taking Derek's heated anger, Stiles began to quicken his pace as he headed down the hallway.

"Stilinski!" he heard Ramsey shout at him. He turned around to meet her gaze. "Why didn't I get a page? I'm in charge of you and now you're just running codes and-" But Stiles didn't listen to the rest, he couldn't. He felt enough without enduring her perfectly sharp insults. He just turned down the next hall and quickly spotted an on-call room, gunning for it. But not before he caught Scott at the nurse's station, looking out just as he opened up the door of the on-call room.

"Stiles?" he called, but he slammed the door behind him. A flood of emotions hitting him. Guilt. Rejection. Inadequacy. Fear. It all came over Stiles like a hurricane, knocking the wind out of him. Just as he pictured the look of shame and despair on Derek's face when he saw Stiles in Barbie's room, he couldn't contain it like he thought he could, and the tears and sobs came from him with ease. Just as he started to collect himself, Scott opened up the door quickly and slid in. Shying from view, Stiles turned around and quickly wiped his face as Scott hurriedly shut the door.

"Hey dude," Stiles laughed, trying to cover up the fact that he was sniffling and currently drying his eyes. "What's up?"

"Stiles," Scott began, with such a softness in his voice, it almost made Stiles want to admit what had happened with Derek and everything. But only almost. "What happened?"

Stiles paused, but decided to just give him a brief recap. "Barbie...my patient...he almost, and it would have been my fault. Then Hale-" Stiles paused as he choked up.

"Hey," Scott went over to him and grabbed his shoulders. "It's okay. It's alright."

When Stiles looked up into Scott's eyes, he felt a couple tears slip out. "Don't tell anyone."

Instead of answering, Scott just pulled Stiles into a hug and patted his back a couple times, pulling him close. When they separated, Scott was smiling.

"Already forgotten." Stiles quickly punched Scott in the shoulder. "Ow!" he grabbed his shoulder. "What the hell was that for?"

"I just want you to know that just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm soft or whatever."

"Crying doesn't make you soft," Scott said. "It makes you human."

Stiles smiled, laughing. "Sorry I punched you."

"It's cool. But let's get out of here before people think we're doing it."

The new friends laughed and quickly got out of the on-call room, promising to meet up later as they parted their ways over their newly formed connection, despite the happenings that had inevitably brought them together.

x

As the sun began to rise, Derek was walking down the halls on the surgical floor, en route to finding Rick Barbara's parents after leaving the patient with the news he had on his seizures, or rather lack thereof. He had zero idea what was causing Mr. Barbara's seizures. He had previously thought that he had a seizure disorder, but now Derek didn't think that was the case. Trying to figure this one out on his first day was really getting the best of him. He was already rapidly lamenting at interns.

Stiles. He had been a little hard on him. Okay, really hard on him. But still, Derek was an attending and it was his job to chastise the interns. Maybe Stiles was right. Maybe they really couldn't do this. That scene in Mr. Barbara's room had been evidence enough. Maybe Derek would call off all ties to trying to get to know Stiles. At least for now. There were bigger things to take home at the moment.

"Dr. Hale!" A tall man and a graying blonde bounced over to him. "Are you my son's doctor?"

"Richard Barbara. They told us you were the doctor on the case." Mrs. Barbara went on.

"Yes," Derek sighed internally. He really didn't want to have this vague conversation. "I was actually looking for you to discuss your son's condition."

"He told us you had talked to him, but he said that you think he doesn't have a seizure disorder? The other doctor told us he was sure that's what it was." Mr. Barbara lamented.

"Yes, it was previously thought that the seizure disorder was the most likely, but after some tests, it seems that your son doesn't suffer from such a disorder." Derek said eloquently.

"So, what is wrong then?"

"I'm actually not exactly sure."

"Are you kidding me? This is supposed to be a prestigious hospital and you're telling me that you don't know?"

"Mr. Barbara, I understand your frustration, but I assure you that I'm working very hard on this case."

"No, you're not Dr. Lazy. If you were, you'd be out there finding me some damn answers for what's wrong with my kid!"

Mr. Barbara stormed off after that, with Mrs. Barbara quietly giving Derek her apologies while Derek looked up to see his uncle Peter staring him down from across the room.

"Rough first day, Nephew?"

"Screw off." he said to him, walking away. He was already pissed off that his uncle had, somehow "by accident", started working at the same hospital that he had moved to and now he was mocking him? He didn't have time for it. Not when time for Rick Barbara could be running out.

x

Stiles and Scott entered the boardroom, just as they had been instructed, and quickly found where Lydia, Allison, and Isaac were mulling over why they were there in the corner.

"Any news?" Scott asked as they both sit down.

"Nothing yet." Allison said, making sure to avoid eye contact with Scott.

"I heard that they round up the interns and just yell at them in a public forum kind of setting." Isaac shrugged.

"Oh, please." Lydia snorted. "What's medical about that? Nothing procedural about putting us in a pin like some farm animals for the slaughter."

Just then, Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Derek Hale made their way towards the boardroom.

"And here comes the butcher." Stiles said to himself.

They both came into the room and threw a bunch of files on the table surrounding each of the interns.

"This case is for a patient of mine, Rick Barbara. Normally, this is pretty unorthodox, but I need the extra eyes and minds trying to figure out what's going on with this guy. Or else he could die without any just cause. Help me find out what's wrong with him. And the intern that does, gets to scrub in if he needs surgery. Time is running out, so hurry up. And, uh, good luck."

With that, Derek left the room, not even once glancing at Stiles. Not that Stiles was paying attention to that or anything. Dr. Ramsey looked at all the interns. "Well? You heard him. Get your files and get to work. Now."

Following her direction, each of the interns grabbed a file and hoped that they were the ones that got to perform surgery with Dr. Hale. Except for Stiles, who was really just hoping that he could help one of his friends get a chance to cut with the man that he really wished had remained a stranger.

As Scott and Stiles started flipping through the file, Stiles was getting more and more aware of how Derek had treated him in the boardroom. Now he was just completely ignoring him? Rolling his eyes, he decided it was for the best. Working with his one night stand was awkward enough without furthering it by seeing him.

"Hey," Scott said, spiraling Stiles out of his inner monologue on why Derek had to be so frustrating while being equally so fine that all fifty states considered him illegal. "Since you're his intern, wanna work together? Dual chance Hale will choose us for the surgery."

"You can have the surgery, dude." Stiles said as they reached a quiet corner of the research library. "I'm totally not vying for personal time with Baby Hale."

Scott laughed at first, but when Stiles just kept flipping through the file and sat on the floor, not laughing, Scott realized he was serious. "Wait, what? Why?"

Rolling his eyes, Stiles motioned for him to sit down. "Do you want the extra help or not?"

Scott nodded, and reluctantly sat on the floor and flipped through the file. "Okay, no acidosis, his scans are clean, so no tumor."

"Yeah. No anoxia or chronic renal failure either."

"Infection?"

"Clean." Stiles sighed. "No white count, no CT lesions, no fevers. His spinal tap is clear."

"What's going on with you and Hale?"

Looking up from the file, Stiles rolled his eyes. "Nothing."

"Totally something, dude." Scott put the file down. "Just tell me what happened."

Stiles grunted and set his file down. "You can't like, flip or yell or anything like that because if you freak out, I will freak out and if I freak out, you will get punched. And a lot harder than in the on-call room and in a much tender area."

"Spit it out already!" Scott laughed, keeping a straight face as he waited for Stiles to spill the proverbial beans.

Taking a chaste breath, Stiles closed his eyes and squinted, hoping he wasn't making a mistake. He had told Derek that it hadn't happened, and here he was, ready to tell Scott? Sighing once more, Stiles opened his eyes. He really hoping he wasn't making a mistake by telling him, but he had to tell someone.

"We had sex. Dirty, raunchy, uninhibited, completely hot and sweaty sex."

Scott stared at him for a couple of seconds, registering everything before saying a word. Stiles was actually starting to get a little worried, but without a word, Scott reached for his file and kept skimming through Barbie's file.

"Aneurysms. What about aneurysms?"

Cursing himself mentally, Stiles picked up his file. "No headaches, CT's void of blood."

"He doesn't have any drug use or trauma or anything." Then Scott paused. "How good was the sex? Hale looks like a powerhouse of sexual release." Scott laughed. "Not that he's my type or anything."

"Forget I told you. We don't have anything else that's going to help Barbie. He's just a guy who wants to play his music and get his career started. And take me on a date." he sighed.

"First Hale, now Barbie? Pace yourself, Stilinski."

"Shut up."

"What kind of music does he do anyway?"

"I think he said something like a mix between doo-wop and blues pop."

Scott laughed, snorting a little bit. "What the hell."

"Stop," Stiles laughed with him. "I think it's cool. He said he incorporates this like crazy rage induced choreography and stuff."

That's when it hit Stiles.

"Crap."

Scott watched the transformation and realization came washing over Stiles' dignified features. "What?"

x

Derek, at the nurse's station trying to make a break on the Barbara case, when he saw a blur of erratic motion coming from his peripheral. When he looked up he saw Stiles and another intern running up to the counter, apparently to see him. They slammed against the nurse's station, causing Derek's green eyes constrict at the noise before scanning the pair over.

"What?" he said, looking at Scott and trying not to even acknowledge Stiles because he had this prideful sheen about him right now and it was actually turning him on.

"We think we have something about Barbie." Stiles said.

"Mr. Barbara." Derek corrected him, looking his way only to give him a dissatisfied glare before returning his gaze to Scott. "Go on."

"CT says there's zero evidence of him having an aneurysm, right?" Scott began.

"But Barbie does this weird like, Celtic rage choreography when he performs and-"

"Mr. Barbara." Derek grunted again. Stiles was sexy, sure. But the unprofessionalism was baffling him in the worst way.

"What if he has one anyway?" Scott offered.

"He told me he once took this fall when he was really getting into this song and-"

"Are you actually suggesting," Derek said, taking the time to look at Stiles. "That such an insignificant fall could cause this kind of aneurysm to burst? Literally zero chance." He scoffed. Absurd. This was completely absurd. Derek gathered his things and started to walk away from the insidious pair. "I'm not wasting my time with this nonsense. Hit the books again. Come back when you have more appeal than a zero chance hypothetical."

Before Scott or Stiles could stop him, he rounded a corner and went up the stairwell, leaving them behind as he heard Stiles say "That went just like expected" in a hushed voice. Pausing on a platform, Derek took a moment to look at the file. Rick's scans were clean. No evidence that he ever had an aneurysm. And Derek was a neurosurgeon, nuero was something Derek knew a lot about. But, something about Rick's file wasn't right. He had sensed it ever since he asked the interns for help. It never was this difficult to diagnose a patient before. Maybe there was something that couldn't be explained to Derek in medical terms. Maybe, as much as it pained him to admit it, just maybe they were onto something.

"I'm telling you, he's not going to budge just because I sucked his co-"

Derek returned from the stairwell and stomped right on over to Scott and Stiles, who apparently had been talking about him in his absence by the look of shame on their faces.

"Let's go to Mr. Barbara."

Stiles and Scott exchanged a look of caution. "Why?" the latter spoke up.

Derek sighed, sliding his hands in his pockets. "To see if Rick is a zero chance."

They walked back over to the nurse's station and Derek quickly asked for Barbie's chart, much to Stiles' surprise.

"This is absolutely insanity that such a fall could cause this, but I really think that you're onto something." Derek said, actually smiling at the pair of them, enough to shock Stiles into a coma after how standoffish he'd been ever since their stairwell talk.

"So, you said you'd pick someone to scrub in with you." Scott said. "Assuming you're doing the surgery soon."

"Yes," Derek said nonchalantly, as if he had almost forgotten. Stiles was just about to open up his mouth to tell Derek to give it to Scott, when Derek gave him his best smile. "Stiles," he flashed his insanely annoying perfectly white teeth at him. "I'll meet you in the OR."

Derek stormed away immediately, eliminating the chance for Stiles to speak up on Scott's behalf, but that didn't stop Scott from pushing Stiles a little.

"Are you serious?"

"Scott, he didn't give me a chance to-"

Scott put his hands up in defeat. "I get it. He got in your pants, and now you get favors."

"Scott!" Stiles said in a hushed yell, hoping no one had heard since no one was relatively close.

"Screw you, Stilinski. Enjoy the OR." Scott then followed Derek's exit and stormed off of the surgical floor that involved a view of Stiles.

"Scott!" he yelled across the floor, earning him a few stares from people as he cursed himself for this gigantic mess that was his life right now.

x

Even though he still had like half of his shift to go through, Isaac was more than glad that it was at least trying to come to a close. He was dealing with incoming ER, so he was becoming a massive pro at sutures, not that Isaac minded. It was actually kind of relaxing compared to everything else going on. With all the ER trauma, he hadn't even had time to try and get on Hale's mystery diagnosis surgery, even though he heard that Stiles and Scott were making some headway with it. He hadn't seen Allison or Lydia the whole day and wasn't really sure where Ramsey even was. Not that he was complaining about the quiet. Or rather, the previous quiet, because as he was suturing another patient, Scott came storming up to him.

"God, I want to strangle Stiles." Scott scoffed as he plopped down in a spare seat on the opposite side of Isaac's patient while he sutured his arm from an apparent "accidental spousal stabbing". Not that Isaac really believed that a whole hell of a lot.

"What did he do?" Isaac sighed, all the while the patient looked completely enthused.

"He just won the stupid surgery with Hale." Scott scoffed again. "Hale's already favoring him and it's literally making me sick."

"Dude, you already got a surgery today. And wait, why do you think Hale's favoring Stiles? Why would he?"

Scott was angry, but he wasn't about to rat out Stiles. At least not yet. "He just picked him over me. And I kicked that appy's ass!"

"Don't you think your friend deserves his moment to shine in the OR too? I think you're being a little selfish, to be honest." Isaac and Scott both looked at his patient, a man well into his forties with a handlebar mustache.

"Um, do you even have a good reason to chime in? How'd you mess up your arm?" Scott said.

"My wife got mad because I asked her to make me a sandwich."

"Yeah, no merit." Scott said, deciding to ignore the patient from now on. "Seriously, I'm pissed off because I helped Stiles come to the conclusion."

"But Stiles found out the diagnosis?" Isaac laughed.

"Yeah, but I helped. Like, tremendously. I'm sure of it."

"Man, let it go. You should be worrying about Martin stealing our surgeries." Isaac finished the last of the sutures, scooting back to let the patient up. "Alright, Mr. Darach, just go see that guy over there, and he'll get you out of here. Have a nice day." The patient quickly walked out of there, but he seemed to want to hear the ending of their squabbles. Once he was out of earshot, Isaac looked back at Scott. "That red-headed banshee is out for blood."

"I guess you're right." he sighed. "I just, I screwed up with Hale, the other Hale, and I just really don't want people to underestimate me."

"After your appy, I doubt you're going to have a problem with that."

"I know how people see me," Scott countered. "They look at my face and see a puppy. Well, that's all fine and good, but they see a chihuahua when really? I'm going to go full pit bull on their asses this year. Just you watch."

Isaac laughed. "That's a little stereotypical of you. I had a family pit bull."

"And what happened to him?"

"He bit me and then ran away."

Scott stood up and patted Isaac on the chest. "Stereotype solidified. I'll catch you later."

"Yeah, later."

After he watched Scott hurry down the hall, he sent a quiet pray to the sky that his day was a lot less stressful as a nurse started over to him with another suture, bringing a smile to his face as he greeted the next uncomplicated patient.

x

Back in the Tunnels, Allison was telling Lydia about the apparent drama between Scott and Stiles that Isaac had told her about and how amazing it was that their little group was already having trouble among them, let alone with fellow interns with other residents.

"I mean, I see where Scott is coming from." Allison chimed in after Lydia said Scott was being a baby about hogging the OR. "He just want to prove himself."

"Oh please!" Lydia said, throwing herself on one of the gurneys in the tunnels. "Scott's just being jealous and honestly," Unbeknownst to Lydia, Scott was actually just coming down to the tunnels and just rounded the corner as "He needs to get the hell over himself for an appy that anyone could have performed" came flying out of her mouth.

Scoffing, Scott flailed his arm in Lydia's direction with a snack size Lay's bag. "Nice. Thanks for the support."

"Not sorry," Lydia said, flicking her hair. "Surgical is cut throat. And I look forward to the lovely pressing of a cool dagger shining against every single one of your necks."

"God, cold hearted snake much?" Allison quipped. "Paula Abdul seriously had to be your ringtone."

"It's fine," Scott plopped on a gurney and quickly opened his chips. "Isaac actually told me I was being a douche. It's cool and I'm happy for Stiles."

Just then, Stiles came into the tunnels. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, because you know I didn't even want the surgery. And I actually can down here to tell you that I'm gonna tell him that you came up with the idea."

"No," Scott demanded. "Don't strain yourself."

Stiles sighed. "Scott, I'm trying here."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just have this weird determination to prove myself."

"Then go prove yourself! You know I don't want to spend time with Hale."

"Wait, why?" Allison said, giving him a weird are-you-crazy look.

"Yeah," Lydia said, standing up and crossing her arms in an inquisitive manner. "What's wrong with Hale?"

Stalling, Stiles just started laughing in a nervous way. "Nothing. I'm sure he's a great surgeon I just...don't want to have you guys getting made just because…" He couldn't tell all of them about him and Derek. Telling Scott had pseudo-blown up in his face and he wasn't going to drive into that busy freeway just yet. So he got a great cover story. "Just because I'm Claudia Leigh's son."

It was the first time that they had heard Stiles mention it, and they hadn't discussed it since lunch when Stiles had almost walked in on their conversation.

"I don't think that's what's going on here." Lydia said, lockinhuhg eyes with Stiles. "What's really going on with you and Hale?"

Stiles laughed nervously again and ran a hand through his lazily styled hair. "What-what are you talking about? Why do you assume that something is going on between me and Hale?"

As Lydia confronted Stiles, Allison looked over at Scott to see a weird look glaze over his features. "Scott?" she chimed quietly, but Lydia, of course, picked up on it.

"Scott, what's going on? I know he had to have told you." Lydia said, using her siren like looks to try and pry it out of him.

Scott looked over her shoulder and watched Stiles miming that he was dead if he told them what had transpired between him and Derek last night.

"Um,"

Sighing, Stiles saw that this obviously wasn't going to go away. So, he decided to just rip the band-aid off and just blurt it out.

"We had sex, alright?"

Just that moment, as if it weren't weird enough with everyone staring at him, Isaac had just so happened to join them. So now all of them knew. Crap. Just great.

"You had sex!?" Isaac screamed.

Not ready to deal with the drama of his friends knowing and asking about Derek, Stiles fled the tunnels, deciding to go study for his surgery instead of listening to his friends question him about how hot sex was with Derek Hale.

x

After the whole revelation in the tunnel, Lydia was walking over to the nurse's station to finish discharging a patient of hers that she had for literally twenty minutes. As she did, Peter Hale came walking up to her.

"Which one are you?"

Turning around, Lydia looked into his weirdly sensual eyes and his shoulders were broad, which she had to admit were her weakness. But she definitely should not be sexualizing the stature of her boss. Like, at all.

"Excuse me?" She scoffed.

"Which one are you of Ramsey's? Argent or Martin?"

"My name is Lydia. Lydia Martin."

Peter smirked. "So the super genius. I need an intern to scrub in with me on a bypass. Interested?"

Lydia almost choked on her tongue. Scrub in? On a heart surgery? Cardio was Lydia's dream, and here was the head of cardiothoracic surgery, asking for her help in assisting his surgery.

"Absolutely. I'm there."

"Not yet. Follow me, Martin."

As they walked away, Lydia couldn't help but notice two things: She was about to assist on her first cardio surgery, and Peter Hale had an undeniably sexy ass.

x

Stiles just walked into Barbie's room, where Derek was waiting on him, prepping Barbie for the transport to the OR, Barbie in a deep sleep. Once he slipped through the door, Derek turned back and looked at Stiles, trying for a small, procedural smile, one Stiles tried to mimic, but he was sure he just looked constipated.

"Hey," Stiles said matter-of-factly.

"Hey…"

Derek finished dressing Barbie appropriately, and they both stood in silence until the nurse left the room, which came to Stiles like a breath of chaste air. Taking in a deep sigh before continuing, Stiles locked eyes with Derek.

"Did you pick me for this surgery because we had sex?"

"Absolutely." he said, not even cracking a smile. When Stiles just rolled his eyes, Derek went on with, "Stiles, I'm just kidding."

"I''ll go get Scott. He really wants the surgery and I'm not doing this with you."

"Stiles,"

"Derek, I can't do this."

Derek stood up from his chair and closed a little of the space between the two of them. "I picked you because you're his doctor. You're the one that found the diagnosis, right? You're the one that deserves this surgery. You," Derek paused. "Us having sex, you shouldn't even think that I would ever do that."

x

"So wait, you're crushing on Scott?"

Allison rolled her eyes as she laughed as her and Lydia were hold up at the nurse's station, charting on some patients for Ramsey.

"I mean, earlier we kind of had a little moment or whatever. It's seriously no big deal."

Lydia laughed. "Personally," she started, as Peter just so happened to slow down and smile at the pair. "I like them a little...experienced."

"So, who are you staying with?" Allison asked.

"Staying with? Oh no, honey. I have my own apartment. I mean, I have at least some tact." Lydia smiled, flipping her red hair up in a ponytail really quick. "Not having your own place is for virgins or people who still live with their parents."

Allison laughed, only sarcastically before turning around and whispering to herself, "I need to move out of my dad's house."

x

Stiles, finally in the OR, was actually really excited to be assisting Derek with Barbie's surgery. He was actually looking into Barbie's brain and seeing the problem with his aneurysm. Derek actually motioned for him to get a closer look. If he would have been able to see, Derek would have seen Stiles smiling at him behind his mask. And if only Stiles knew that Derek was smiling back.

"See that?" he said, pointing at Barbie's lesion.

"That's it?"

"That's it." he smiled, letting the gesture slip into his tone.

Looking into Derek's eyes, Stiles smiled. This was it. Surgery. He was here. He was finally here. At this moment, Stiles considered himself an official doctor. Not only that, but he was a doctor that had correctly diagnosed his patient. And it was completely intoxicating.

As he looked up into the gallery, he saw Scott and even Lydia, watching his surgery as he caught the other Hale and even the Chief standing in the gallery. This was his moment. Stiles actually thought he might be a little drunk off of the experience, especially as he looked back into Derek's eyes, thinking he almost saw the glimpse of approval in his green eyes.

Relaxing after the surgery, Stiles couldn't stop smiling as he sat just outside the OR. It was so thrilling to be looking inside of someone's brain like that. He felt like he could do anything after seeing that. He could literally accomplish anything. It was such a high. Before he could realize it, Scott was sitting next to him, sighing deeply.

"Look, I'm really sorry. About the yelling or whatever." Scott started. "I was a little jealous and everything and...can we just skip this crap and be bros?"

Stiles chuckled. "Sure, man."

"Thank God. I'm too tired to hug it out. I need some sleep."

"Yeah, you look like hell."

"If I look like hell," Scott said, standing up. "I must be hot."

Laughing as he walked away, Stiles shook his head at him. But at least he was over his whole tiff with Scott. He really wanted to be friends with him, with all of his group and befriending Scott was the perfect place to start.

The doors to the OR hallway swung back open, and Derek stepped out, looking completely spent, but still totally hot in his navy blue attending scrubs. He looked over Stiles and caught the giddy glazing look that was glowing off of him.

"What is it?" he scoffed.

"That was absolutely amazing," Stiles said, looking up at him lazily. "That was better than I ever thought it would be when I was at Dartmouth. You practice and you imagine and you study. But that?" Stiles laughed and stood up, grinning back at Derek even more. "That was better than sex."

"I don't know. I've had some pretty radical sex as of late." Derek smiled slowly.

Stiles just looked back at him, half flattered, half shy at the fact that Derek was bringing up last night once again.

"Well, I guess I should get back to Ramsey, or...whatever."

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "Yeah, you should."

"I'll, uh," Running a hand through his hair, adjusting it a little, Stiles scoffed. "I'll...see you around?"

Nodding, Derek grinned. "Yeah, absolutely."

"Alright," Completely over the awkwardness, Stiles started to walk away. "Bye."

x

As they all laughed and reminisced over their first shift together, Stiles walked out of Seattle Grace Hospital with his new friends. Scott and Isaac were hanging off of each other, barking at each other about their days while Allison and Lydia were hooking their arms together, gossiping about how they were going to celebrate. Stiles stopped walking and just watched them. They had made it. As the sun was coming up, Stiles knew that they had survived. Together. They were doctors. But more importantly, they were friends.

"Stiles!"

Allison's yell caught him off guard, and caused him to glance over at the four of them.

"There's a bar across the street. Let's go!" Isaac hollered.

Laughing, Stiles ran to catch up with his friends, ready to unwind after the absolute craziest forty eight hours, but a forty eight hours that he wouldn't have changed for the world.

Later in the morning, Stiles was visiting a grave, placing some flowers down at the tombstone.

"I made it, Mom." he smiled down at the grave, which read Claudia Leigh-Stilinski. "I'm finally a doctor." He paused to laugh. "I'm proud of myself. I hope you're proud of me." He then looked off into the distance, which displayed a building about a mile off. "I know that Dad would be…"

Stiles walked into the building he had gazed at from his mother's grave, signing in at the front desk of the residence before being directed over to an older man, sitting by the window, looking out towards the grave that Stiles had just visited.

"I'm going to keep the house." Stiles told the man as he sat down next to him. "I know I said I was going to sell it, but I feel closer to Mom there...I don't know. I just, can't part with it for right now." The man doesn't budge, just keeps looking out into the distance. "I'm going to have to rent out the two rooms, but I'm willing to do it."

"I'm not supposed to see the doctor today." the man in front of him said.

"I'm not your doctor. But I am a doctor. I'm a surgeon."

"I think my son's a surgeon." the man nodded.

"He is." Stiles smiled weakly. "It's me, Dad. Stiles."

Not flinching, the man turned away from Stiles, not registering who he was, and looked back out towards the window. "My son," he began. "He's the one that killed my beautiful Claudia."

Choking back on the sobs, Stiles felt his eyes tearing up. Smiling through the pain, Stiles grabbed his dad's hand.

"I'll see you next week," but his father just stared out at the grave. "Bye, Dad."

As Stiles got up, his tears fell silently from his face, unable to look back at his father for their past vents as he left the Seattle Adult Care Facility, ready to go to sleep after he spent the entire day, in more ways than one, under the knife.


	2. In An Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is deeply affected by a patient wearing the same shoes as him. Allison receives a patient living with a language barrier while harboring a secret. Peter and Derek's reasonings for coming to Seattle are discussed. Derek and Stiles suffer a mishap in their supposed-to-be professional relationship.

As Stiles came into Seattle Grace Hospital on a new day, he kept looking down at the flyer in his hand, wondering if this really was a good idea. Sure, he had decided that he didn't want to sell his house, but did he really want to room with other doctors? Maybe he'd get lucky and someone in Derm or Psych would excite some interest or something.

He quickly slapped up one of the flyers on the main bulletin board on the surgical floor and then went ahead and pinned one up in the interns' locker room as he found his locker and started to get ready for his shift. He quickly took off his nerdy Star Wars themed Vans and placed them inside his locker. Scott came walking up to him then, since their lockers were right beside each other.

"Hey." Scott smiled.

"Hey," Stiles nodded, pulling off his shirt, revealing his bare slightly sculpted chest, which wouldn't have been a big deal if Scott hadn't had pointed at a spot on his chest.

"Dude, how long have you had that?" Scott gestured to the fading hickey near his rib cage. Grabbing his scrub top from his locker, he rapidly put it on instead of answering, hoping no one had noticed. "He must have done it for a long time. Skill."

"Shut up." Stiles said, half laughing, half rolling his eyes.

Stiles and Scott were just about to walk out of the locker room, but Allison and Isaac came up to him, blocking their exit all the while holding up Stiles' roommates wanted flyer.

"Are you seriously looking for roommates?"

"No," he said as they moved out of the way, but as they walked down the hall and they followed, Stiles let out a sigh. "I mean, yes. I am, but not for you guys."

"Rude." Isaac shook his head.

"Disrespectful." Allison agreed, looking at Isaac and smirking. "Seriously," Allison ran in front of Stiles and Scott, halting their further ambling to meet Ramsey for rounds. Scott laughed while Stiles fought the urge to run the other way. "I'm a real neat freak. I will clean the house incessantly."

"And I bake." Isaac blurted but bluntly, much to the surprise of all three of them, earning him a trio of stares to which he scoffed at. "Screw off, I was the jealousy of my culinary elective."

"I don't know. I mean, you guys are cool and everything or whatever, but we already have to endure Ramsey together and spend every second together here at the hospital. You really want to room together on top of that?"

"Lydia won't let me room with her for some reason."

"Because I'm not ruining my apartment." Walking up to them, she gave them all a smirk and just kept walking by. They all made a point to keep close behind her.

"I promise I won't bring girls over more than twice a week, but," Isaac grinned. "I might have a hot streak here and there."

"Gross," Allison rolled her eyes. "Okay, I get not wanting him to move in, but I'm not like that. I haven't had sex in over three months." They all cut eyes at her, which caused her to mentally cursed herself. "Probably shouldn't have blurted that out."

"Alright," Stiles put his hands up in defeat. "I'll think about it."

When they finally reached Ramsey, she was sipping on a mocha latte that Lydia had apparently giving her, causing her fellow interns to sigh. "Guess who's cutting with the Nazi today?" Allison said under her breath.

"No one." Ramsey said after another sip.

"But…" Lydia laughed nervously. "I brought you coffee."

"And what good coffee it is," Ramsey smiled and raised the cup up to her in appreciation. "But kiss-ups piss me off. So you're delivering the weekend labs to patients with McCall" Then she motioned for her to go away, much to Lydia's annoyance, which just made Ramsey smile and yell "Thank you!" as she sauntered off, Scott taking the cue to follow her. "Argent, go to the Pit for incoming sutures, McCall, answer trauma pages, Stilinski, you're taking the trauma patients, and Lahey, run the code team."

After a short run, Stiles had a stack of files in his hands, heading to the elevator when he spotted Derek out of the corner of his eye. When he looked up, he saw that Derek was waiting on the elevator too. Sighing to himself, Stiles straightened up and stared at the metallic sheen of the elevator, and definitely not looking at Derek like Derek was looking at him right now.

"Seattle's cold."

Stiles broke his vow and looked him, not really understanding the vague statement. Instead, Stiles just nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"I wasn't expecting it," Derek said, looking at Stiles' body a couple times before returning to his brown eyes. "When I moved six weeks ago, I wasn't expecting such a drastic climate change."

"Seattle is surrounded by water on three sides." Stiles said matter of factly as the elevator opened and allowed the two of them to get inside.

"Hence the cool weather," Derek laughed. "I'm digging the ferry boats. I'm not used to it, but it's different in a good way. I'm from Beacon Hills. I'm not used to any temperature that occurs outside of California."

The elevator closed, leaving them the only two inside, causing Stiles to really want to break this vow of ignoring Derek and rip his clothes off every time that he saw him, but he was determined to stay strong.

"I'm not having sex with you."

Struck by the abrupt conversation, Derek raised his eyebrows and just smiled. "Did I ask you to have sex with me?"

"You're flirting with me."

"I'm talking to you." Then, after a beat, Derek locked eyes with Stiles in the reflection of the elevator and smiled. "Would you like it if I flirted with you?"

Stiles turned around and took in how serious Derek was. "And now you're objectifying me." he scoffed. "In an elevator."

"I'm just making polite conversation."

"I don't want to make polite conversation with you. And I'm not doing anything sexual with you ever again. You're my boss."

"Technically, I'm your boss' boss."

"You're crossing a line. And I'm making it known that this line is being crossed and you need to like, not, because there's rules and whatever and..you're my boss."

"This line you speak of," Derek purred, closing the space between them so that they faced each other. "Can you tell me where it starts or does it have a sign?"

Stiles, staring into Derek's green eyes, became overwhelmed with desire. Passion. Lust. You promised yourself, his mind said. But his penis screamed screw the vow and before Sties even had time to convince himself why he shouldn't, he dropped his files and pushed Derek hard against the wall, pressing his mouth on the older man's before their tongues soothed one another as their lips parted. The elevator kept dinging, but Stiles and Derek were gnawing at each other's clothes with their fingertips, roaming over exposed flesh and skin they wish was showing, all the while their kissing embraced further, causing both men's skin to ignite upon itself.

The elevator dinged a third time, indicating Stiles' floor, and he finally snapped out of it, realizing what he had just done. So much for not creating any mixed signals. Derek started to open his mouth but people started to pour in, leaving little time for them to talk about the kiss. Stiles quickly just picked up his files and ran out of there, but not before he heard Derek yell "We'll talk later!" behind him. This was definitely not how Stiles wanted to start this shift. He had enough to deal with without making out with his boss in the elevator.

Stiles was walking with his newly sorted files when a nurse broke his thoughts of a very naked Derek Hale and approached him with fervor.

"You're running trauma, right?"

"Yeah?" he asked with an open ended tone.

"You better get into Trauma 1. There's a rape victim."

He steeled himself, walking into the room and fully expecting to see a young girl fighting for her life. But the nurses in the room saw his wide eyes when the patient turned out to be a pretty attractive young male, a couple years younger than Stiles himself.

"Twenty-one year old male found in a park, status: post trauma. His GCS was over 60 when he came in along with head trauma, left pupil is dilated, and unequal breath sounds. X-ray is standing by. What do you want to do, Doctor?"

The nurse words were muffled as Stiles' attention drifted from the young guy's face to the shoes he was donning. They were the limited edition R2-D2 Vans, the ones that they had only made about fifty pairs of. And they were the exact same ones that Stiles had worn to the hospital today and sitting in his locker as they nurses continued to glare at him with very little patience.

"Dr. Stilinski?"

His name brought him back to the land of the now. Stiles cleared his throat and looked at the nurse closest to him. "Sorry, he just...uh, yeah. Let CT know we're coming. I'll get x-rays while I'm down there."

x

A rape victim's surgery was not how Derek envisioned his day going. But he was the neurosurgeon on call, and he had to put on a brave face and do his best to keep his emotions in check when it came to the situation. Having Stiles in on the surgery made it oddly calming to be going through with. The only thing that made it a little harder to focus was the fact that his uncle was also in charge of the surgery. But Derek was doing his best to be civil.

"The recovery that this guy stands to face is going to be nothing less than excruciating." Derek said, breaking the conversation in the surgery.

"Assuming he lives to endure the rehab." Peter nodded.

"With him being so small...God, I hope they sterilize the bastard that did this."

"Hey, he's a fighter. Look at how roughed up his hands are. He's on this table, fighting just as hard as he fought against his attacker." Peter shook his head.

"Even better, the rape kit was negative." Derek continued working while he looked at his uncle. "He's a damn warrior."

"That guy deserved to have his ass kicked. Good for John Doe."

"Alistair." Stiles blurted it out without thought, not even meaning to interupt the conversation between the two attending that, he suddenly realized, were still very much the boss of him. "Sorry, I didn't...I'm just saying, his name is Alistair."

"Alistair the all star." Derek laughed. "Fitting for the fight he gave him."

"Ah, the rupture's source has finally made its appearance." Peter reached in with the pickups and pulled out a piece of flesh and revealed it to the staff filling the OR. "What the hell?"

"Oh my God." Stiles chuckled to himself, but it wasn't low enough that it didn't stir a gaze from his attendings.

"Stilinski, you know what this is?"

Stiles nodded at Peter. "That's the attacker's penis. He...he bit it off, sir."

Recoiling, Peter dropped the foreign object into the tray as fast as he could, still in awe of just how hard Alistair had fought against the brutality of his attacker.

Later after the surgery, Peter was still amazed that Alistair even had a chance judging by his injuries. Derek was standing beside him in the scrub room, both of them washing the surgery's effects off of them.

"We'll have to keep an eye on whether or not he develops an infection or not. If he doesn't, he might just leave this hospital with only emotional baggage." Peter said.

"If he can wake up in time to really fight the infection." Derek said, getting ready to leave, but his curiosity getting the better of him. "Why did you come to Seattle, Peter? And how is it that you ended up at the exact same hospital that I accepted?"

"Derek-"

"I've been trying to get away from everything and I know we're family, but that included you. I don't need you clashing with me over surgeries and looking out for me. I'm doing just fine on my own."

"I know that." Peter told him. "The fire was hard on all of us."

"It's not just the fire, Peter. You don't know everything that happened after that."

"Is this about-"

"We're not talking about it. Ever. Just...we're going to have a professional relationship because you're head of Cardio and I'm head of Neuro. There's nothing more to it than that."

Both Dr. Hales at odds, the slightly younger of the pair left his uncle standing in the scrub room while Peter sighed and wondered how he was going to break his nephew's marble like exterior after their entire family had perished in a huge fire back home in Beacon Hills.

x

"Hey, I'm totally saving lives here." Isaac bragged to Lydia, who was only lazily listening to the onslaught of vocabulary that spewed forth from the fountain of boasting that he kept up. "Someone gets to live another day because I'm shocking their heart back to life. It's amazing. I'm amazing."

Lydia gave him a smirk. "Listen, Confident Calvin, why don't you take your I'm-so-happy-for-me's and get out of my sight. I'm running labs when I was the top of my class at Stanford. I should be scrubbing in on something amazing right now. But instead, I'm spending my entire day delivering news like mailman."

"They're not going to deliver themselves. Martin. I suggest you move it."

Ramsey appeared behind both of them, a sudden surprise they weren't sure was a good thing. Off in the distance, they saw Scott going into another room to give a patient their lab results, since he was doing the same thing that Lydia was assigned to do for the day.

"And might I add that McCall has already finished several more labs that you have." Ramsey gave Lydia a faux sigh of disappointment. "I expected better from, what was it, Stanford's best?"

A genuine smile lifted Ramsey's face as she and Isaac watched Lydia sprint away with her stack of labs and trying to best Puppy Dog McCall at his lab running.

"You enjoy our misery, don't you?"

Isaac's attempt at being humerous with Ramsey just caused a scowl to replace the smile on her face. Before she yelled at him, his pager went off, indicating that there was another call for him to answer as he went to attempt and save a life, glad that he had gotten away so easily and survived the wrath of his resident.

x

Returning back to the enthralling land of sutures, Allison went to the nurse's station and grabbed the next chart of the patient she was going to be stitching up next. Reading over the chart as she walked, she made her way over to the patient at curtain four and looked up to see a model-like handsome man waiting for her.

"Alright, Mr. Vetrov, I'm Dr. Argent. I'll be the one suturing your head wound." She eyed the gash with ease, wincing as she stared into it's heart. "Looks like you'll need several stitches for that beauty. Are there any allergies you'd like to tell me about?"

Instead of an immediate answer, the man starting to talk in a foreign tongue that Allison's short two years of high school Spanish did nothing to help her to understand him. His words were thick and sounded like what she imagined an angry beehive would sound like if bees could explain their lives away.

"Mr. Vetrov, I...is that Ukranian?" His eyes pulsed at that, but he continued to talk in what she assumed was his native language, furthering the trouble that Allison was finding herself in. "Maybe that's Russian." She looked around the room. "Does anyone here speak Russian?" To no avail, she was a loss. "I'll, uh, I'll be back, Mr. Vetrov, just wait here."

x

Equipped with his new best friend, Stiles carried the half of the severed penis that the Dr. Hale's had uncovered during Alistair's surgery in a convenient little cooler as he neared Chief Deaton's office. He rapped on the door with a few couplet beats of his fists before he was called in.

Alan Deaton looked him over a few times, looking up from his mounds of paper work, setting down his glasses on the desk and allowed Stiles to take up his total attention. "Can I help you, Dr...uh.."

"Stilinski, Sir." Stiles nodded. "They told me to bring this to you? It's the, uh, you heard, right? About the patient who, took a bite out of crime, so to speak?"

"Is that you being funny, Doctor?"

"No, well, I just thought...sorry, Sir. Anyway, I'm here, handing the pe- it, handing it over to you."

"The police need it, yes." Deaton nodded. "But they haven't arrived yet." He plucked his glasses back up from his overwhelmed desk and let them frame his face and improve his vision yet again. "You'll have to keep it with you until they get to the hospital."

"But, Sir, I-"

"It was your finding, Dr. Stilinski."

"Technically, Sir, it was Dr. Hale and Dr. Hale's surgery and-"

"I'm really busy, so, you have the ability to see yourself out, yes?"

Stiles stood in front of the Chief, a little sullen and dumbfounded as he turned around and steered himself toward the next thing on his list to mark off, all while he took the custody of half of a man's penis.

x

"What's that?"

Placing the cooler on the counter of the nurse's station, Stiles had a feeling he was going to be casually answering that question for the rest of the day while he waited for the cops to come and collect the evidence. So with a sigh and a chaste breath, he began what was sure to be a long day of explaining.

"It's a penis."

"Oh, wow." Scott shook himself, detaching from the nurse's station, trying to keep a little distance between him and the cooler. "From the dual Hale surgery?"

"Yep." Stiles shrugged his shoulders. "And since Seattle's finest is busy doing what they do, I'm stuck with a penis at my side all day."

"I'm sure you've had others stuck with you in different ways." Scott laughed.

Lydia came up to the sight of Stiles striking Scott in the shoulder with a heavy fist. Not bothering to get the details on their physicality, she eyed the cooler with piquing interest. "Ooh, is that the penis?"

"You had time to hear about it? Aren't you busy trying to best Scott?" Stiles laughed as the two of them eyed each other the way two athlete's competing for the same prize would share a glare.

"That from the rape case?" Isaac glided over to them, having just had another unsuccessful code team page and in desperate need of human interaction. Stiles just affirmed his inquiry with a grunt of approval. "Anyone seen Argent?"

x

Allison was looking over at Mr. Vetrov from the nurse's station, really wishing she had taken a different foreign language elective in school to figure out what her patient was trying to convey with her. Luckily, Lydia showed up when she had paged her.

"Alright, I'm here, sacrificing my standoff with McCall. What's the big emergency?"

"He won't let me sew his face up, he keeps-" She was cut off by Mr. Vetrov coming over to them and raising his voice, spewing forth the rough, guttural screeches of his language at them. "But he keeps doing that."

"Yeah, he's Russian. So?"

"Thank God you recognize that. Please translate for me so I can suture him up and send him on his way."

Laughter filled Allison's ears as Lydia cackled her devilish howl of hysterics. "Just because I recognize what language he's speaking doesn't mean that I speak it."

"Are you serious?"

"Good luck, Argent. I'm gonna go kick your boyfriend's ass at this lab race."

"He's not my boyfriend!" She yelled at the ghost of Lydia as she raced away from Allison's situation, really worrying that she wasn't going to be able to take another patient until she was able to help the wounded Russian man who wouldn't let even touch him.

x

Stiles, still carrying around the severed penis, had somehow actually found time to question a couple people about the ad he had posted up in the locker room about renting the two rooms in his house. So far, several interns from psych and peds had weaseled their way into asking him about the house. But they all had weird stipulations about living with him.

"Are pets allowed, because I have five cats?"

"Is it okay if my sister and her two kids move in, too?"

"Downstairs bedrooms just don't work for me because I have to be a certain level amount of feet up before I can fall asleep."

He was starting to seriously consider Allison and Isaac's plea to let them move in, but only half-heartedly because spending every waking moment together was sure to strain their collective relationship.

Without really meaning to, he found his way back to the room Alistair was admitted to. And it just so happened that Derek was there, watching over his vitals with severe determination.

"Hey."

Derek turned to see the young doctor, toting around the severed object from their surgery, a topic that he already knew was buzzing around Seattle Grace, the fact that an intern was carrying around a penis with him around every hall of the hospital.

"Hey." The attending rocked slightly in his chair. "No luck finding the attacker. I've called everyone within twenty miles of the park. After what Alistair managed to do, he'll need a doctor sooner or later. We'll catch the guy that did this."

"Alistair's family, are they at the cafeteria?"

He shook his head. "No family to call. No siblings."

"He's alone?"

The fact that Derek could hear the feeble way Stiles' tone wobbled when he spoke really pried at his already confusing feelings about the intern. "He's got me. Us. He's still holding on and that's something."

"I should go update his charts."

Stiles left then, trying to avoid talking to Derek about their little elevator rendezvous that had been plaguing his mind since it occurred, trying keep the subject from getting discussed. Besides, he had a penis to attend to and it was better if he didn't stir his own into thinking that the incident with Derek would amount to anything.

x

Tending to a more dire patient, Allison was bandaging up a drunk guy's arm but still worrying about whether or not she was going to be able to assist Mr. Vetrov with his head wound.

"You're sexy."

The slurring of her patient's words was enough to set her annoyance meter rising to the top. "And you're still drunk. Sit still." She put his clips into place as his eyes stayed on her intently.

A glaze washed over his face as fast as the downpour of a sink's faucet. "Holy shit. It is you. You were wearing that pink bikini, from the magazine!"

Guilt caressed every inch of her spine as she took in the fact that this man knew something about her that no one else at the hospital did. She thought better of her worry, knowing that even if he confessed his knowledge to every single person inside the four walls of the building, that his lack of sobriety would eradicate every credit to his claim. Ultimately, she decided to brush it off.

"Actually, it was red. You can go."

As her patient left, Mr. Vetrov came up to her, once again shouting in Russian at the sight of her.

"Sir, I can't understand you. If you would just sit down, I can assess your wound."

He persisted to talk in his language, but he obliged and sat down on the empty bed in front of her, allowing her to look at his wound. She was a little taken aback by his cooperation, leaving her speechless as she continued to see just had bad his wound was.

x

After a long couple of hours of trying to rack up the highest number of labs reported to patients against the machine that was Lydia Martin, Scott found himself with some time to spare and while walking around the hospital, he found Stiles hanging out on the lobby floor, sitting with his cooler next to him like some sort of weird accessory. He came up to him, a lazily smile on Stiles lips when Scott stopped in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Babysitting the penis, waiting for the police, the usual. You?"

"Avoiding Lydia. She's taking this delivering news race a little too seriously."

"I kissed Derek."

Not anticipating such a reveal from his friend, all Scott could do was register his words and stare back at him. "You kissed Derek."

Stiles nodded. "In an elevator."

"Oh, so because it was behind closed doors, it's okay?"

"I didn't plan to. I was feeling...I don't know. Alistair had on a pair of limited edition R2-D2 Vans made for the premiere of one of the prequel films. It's the same pair of shoes that I wore to work today. Isn't that strange?"

"It's strange that you're that it's making you feel whatever for Hale. And this is what you do when you're feeling some type of way, make out with Dr. McDreamy?"

Letting out a laugh, Stiles stared up at Scott. "Did you just-"

His utterance was cut off by the sound a car screeching to a halt just outside the hospital's doors right by them. Scott was quick to run outside and see what the commotion was all about, Stiles running at his feels, the cooler glued to his hands as they went out to see a man exit the vehicle, his pants and hands covered in blood. They shared an exchange of stares as the man collapsed on the ground. Scott went to him first, Stiles yelling orders through the open doors for some assistance.

Once they had the patient inside and on a gurney, they rushed him up to the surgical floor. Having been paged, Ramsey met them just outside the elevator when they reached the appropriate floor.

"Talk to me."

"Take a look." Stiles gestured toward the unconscious patient.

She took a second to lift the blanket covering up the patient, eyeing his injury, and then looking back between Stiles and Scott. "Let the Chief know we have our guy. Let's get him to OR 1, people, let's go."

Both Stiles and Scott were allowed to scrub in on the surgery that followed, with Ramsey at the helm of the daunting task involving mending the man's torn penis.

"The beating that Alistair took," Stiles said in a low voice to Scott. "And now this."

"Satisfying, isn't it? Knowing this guy got what's coming to him."

"One of you should easily be able to enlighten me as to why we're not actually reattaching the penis, since you two are oh so talkative."

"Teeth tear. They don't exactly leave clean cuts." Scott told her.

"All that's left is to irrigate and tend to the open wound." Stiles added.

"His future with said wound?"

"Not so good. He'll never urinate correctly." Stiles sighed in mock frustration.

Scott agreed. "And no more sex for the rest of his life."

"Such a shame." Stiles nodded.

"Let us take a moment to grieve for his tragic outlook." Ramsey said. Then, without giving anyone a second to interpret her words, she yelled "Clamp." and went on with the surgery, clearly having no sympathy for the degree of man that came with being a rapist.

x

After finishing with Mr. Vetrov, the nurse let Allison know that she was caught up with all the incoming patients in need of sutures. Her patient had remained quiet the entire time she was tending to the gash covering the top part of his forehead. But as soon as she finished, he flew upright from the bed and starting yelling wildly at her, pulling her away from the ER, almost like he was pleading with her through their language barrier.

"Mr. Vetrov, I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're trying to tell me but-"

He got frustrated and let go of her arm, shouting at her and then pointing outside, begging her to follow him with his hands. Against every code that she knew she would violate, Allison followed him, unable to turn away a patient that was obviously still in need. Once outside, he ran away from her, retreating to the very edge of the hospital's parking lot and ducking behind a twin pair of dumpsters.

"Mr. Vetrov!"

Once again, she ignored her legal obligations and ran over to where he had disappeared at the perimeter of the parking lot, where she found Mr. Vetrov standing over a young girl who didn't look much older than seventeen, his hands going to the even bigger lash that she wore on her own forehead, mirroring the wound Allison had already covered up on him.

"Oh no." She took a look at it, Mr. Vetrov furthering his attempts to presumably tell her what happened to cause their twin wounds. "I'll clean in it." She crouched down in front of the girl. "But it's, oh god, it's really bad." The girl didn't move, so Allison tried to use her hands to explain. "Clean, I have to clean it before I can help."

"It happened at work, we own little place across town."

The girl's voice shocked Allison, but it also brought a small smile that lightened up her features. "English. You understand me." She shook her head positively as Allison stood up. "Come with me, inside I can get a better look at it and-"

"Not inside! We can't inside." The girl's accent was thick, but manageable as both the girl and Mr. Vetrov freaked out at her words.

"It's fine, I promise. He came in-"

"Father has green card, I do not." the young girl conveyed their dire situation with her broken English.

"We can keep that between us. Just come inside, please."

"No, too bad." She shook her head, knowing she didn't have the right words. "Too risk. Not inside, not inside!"

"Alright, alright." Allison knew she should turn around. Just go back inside and forget that her father had ever walked into the hospital. But her morals wouldn't allow it, and even still, she wasn't exactly sure that she wanted to. "I'll be back. Wait here. I'll come back, okay? I'll be back."

Allison gave them her best face to try and ease their ailings as she ran back inside Seattle Grace to steal medical supplies so she could help her patient by doing an outside MacGyver surgery that she couldn't tell a soul about.

When she returned, it didn't take her long to stitch up the young Vetrov daughter, glad that she could help them and still try and keep it under wraps while she performed her outdoor skills on her patient.

"Alright, you're good. I'm all done. You'll most likely be sporting a scar, but that's the best I could do with the bad lighting."

"Is good, thanks. Thanks much." She smiled at Allison, validating for her that she had done the right thing.

Her father placed a hand on Allison's shoulder, speaking to him in Russian for the last time, tears reflecting in his eyes. But she didn't need to understand their language to know what he was saying this time.

"You're welcome." They both smiled at her again while he kissed his daughter's forehead gingerly. "Remember, come back in five days. Page Dr. Argent and I'll take care of your stitches. Five days , okay?" Allison outstretched her fingers to get her point across. "And if anyone finds out-"

"I know." the young Vetrov girl nodded. "No tell, come back five days."

"Alright."

Smiling again, Allison watched as they receded into the night, warming Allison's heart despite the light sprinkle of rain that started to mist down on her.

x

When Stiles, who was finally free of his penile sidekick, went back to Alistair's room to just do a quick check, Derek was still sitting by his bedside, still monitoring every output the EKG told him.

"You've been here all night?"

Derek, stretching in his chair, coughed up an admittance. "I couldn't just leave him with nobody. It's hard enough fighting everything he's having to face; I can't imagine going through all of this alone."

"So no change."

"No, no change." Derek got up from his chair, needing to stretch his legs as well as he leaned against the frame of the door, glancing over at Stiles and huffing out a breath that seemed to silently change to conversation. "So we're not dating, but we're kissing in elevators?"

"You remember that?" Stiles winced, clearing wanting to avoid this very conversation. "I was hoping you forgot."

"Can't forget something like that." Derek smiled. "Not that I'm complaining. I quite enjoy the kissing, elevators or not."

"Before you bring up the line or whatever that I talked about earlier, it was just a relapse or something like that. I honestly blame Otis and his claustrophobic metal box housing."

"Just let me know if there's going to more elevator rides so I can properly equip my wallet with proper protection."

"Stop." Stiles tried to hide the smile Derek caused, but it was inevitable, instead resigning to looking back at Alistair. "Why does it affect me so much that he's wearing my shoes? I mean, it's such a coincidence. He's getting the crap beat out of him and he's all alone."

Alistair's stats change as quickly as their dynamic. Alarms ring from his EKG as Derek runs over to decipher the readouts. "ICP's double. Call down for a craniotomy."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"If I can get him to an OR and expose his skull flap, he might have a chance to fight another day."

x

Just outside the locker room, Stiles was listening to Isaac and Allison complaining about going back to their respective dwellings of housing and how they really needed to look for an apartment together to save money. Unable to find any other suitable renters, Stiles exhaled heavy and turned around to face them.

"You win. I'll let you guys move into my house."

"Seriously!? You finally caved!" Isaac celebrated as Allison joined in on the hollering that they had a place to stay that wasn't her dad's house.

Scott came up to Stiles, clasping him on the shoulder with a scoff. "I'm disappointed that you caved."

"I'm disappointed in myself that I caved." Stiles sighed, wondering if he had just made a huge mistake.

As they walked by, heading for the elevators to finally go home, Derek stood outside Alistair's room, looking on as Alistair opened his eyes, finally returning to the land of the living from his the limbo his injuries had set him in. "Welcome back."

Stiles went back to get his shoes from his locker, the one's he shared with the newly awoken Alistair, and when he headed back to the elevator's, he was met with Derek, who was actually allowing himself to leave the confines of the hospital for comfier pastures, the remnant of a smile brightening his rugged looks as the elevator chimed, slowly making its way to them.

"The admiration is intense," Derek mentioned, causing Stiles to look on in disbelief at his candor. "For the ferry boats, I mean."

Not believing his suave save, the elevator dinged open as Derek stepped in, waiting for Stiles to join him. But the older man would be waiting a long time for that particular action.

"Definitely taking the stairs."

He walked away from Derek and the temptation he oozed as he called, "Self-control, Stilinski. It's a virtue." as Stiles thought about how hard it was going to be to resist the elevator for at least the next week to recover from the events that had transpired, all while he sauntered away eagerly in his limited edition Star Wars shoes.


	3. Dead Baby Bike Race Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A no holds barred bike race of a local bar keeps the interns in a constant state of chaos. Allison and Lydia strive to find a way to harvest the organs of a John Doe. The aftermath of letting Isaac and Allison move in weighs heavy on Stiles while trying to keep Derek and his constant advances at arm's length.

The pitter patter of rain stirred Stiles awake. He opened his eyes to the sight of his clock mocking him, telling him that it was a little after four in the morning. Exhaling in a fit of annoyance, Stiles rolled over and screamed when he saw Allison standing over him at the side of his bed, a concern on her face while she sipped on her morning coffee.

"My room is so much smaller than Isaac's."

Ignoring her, Stiles threw off his bed's blankets and hit the side of his bed's frame, cursing while he made his way out of his bedroom, Allison's furthering her complaining by following him into the kitchen.

"He doesn't have nearly as many things to unpack; I should have the bigger room."

"Hey, it's not my fault I got the first pick!" Isaac yelled from down the hall. Stiles was doing his best of forgetting that he had roommates now, going right for the already worked coffee pot and quickly grabbing a thermos to throw it in. If he was going to deal with a room war between his new roommates, he was going to need coffee, and tons of it.

"Stiles should have the final say as to who gets what room." Allison threw back at Isaac. "He has the bigger closest!"

"Get creative, Argent. My room is only inches bigger than yours."

He listened to the two of them bicker and reason away at him rather than him actually committing to the conversation. He sipped on his coffee and worked his way back throughout the house until the bathroom came back into view.

"Plus, my room is filled with boxes marked "Mom's stuff".

"Yeah, just leave those alone." Stiles sighed.

"I could unpack them for you," Allison nodded. "Help you find some places to put them and then I'd have more room, since Isaac is being selfish and won't let me have the bigger room."

"Selfish?! You're the one trying to-"

"Can't you be a nice guy and just let me-"

But that was all Stiles heard, because he dipping into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Finding himself in the bathroom mirror, he couldn't help but think about whether he had just made the biggest mistake of his life letting his fellow interns move into his mother's house. Because as it stood right now, he was going to have to deal with a lot more with them than just the usual medical jargon and drama at work.

x

Derek was walking to work, something he liked to do back home in Beacon Hills when he got the chance. He had stopped by a local coffee shop and gotten himself a terribly sweet Frappuccino and he savory every single swallow he was able to consume. He walked up to a crosswalk, waiting for the traffic to allow the pedestrians to walk across the street when he noticed that Dr. Ramsey was there waiting as well.

"Good morning, Dr. Ramsey."

She didn't answer him. He noticed that she was mumbling to herself, an inner struggle causing a line to crease her eyes into even smaller slits of concentration.

"Ramsey?"

"Stop talking." She threw up her hand in his face, cutting him off as she tried to think about what it was about this particular day that she was missing. Something was going on today, she was sure of that much, but she for whatever reason couldn't put her finger on exactly what the event was. "It's right there. Something I'm forgetting about today..."

"Right." Derek just looked along at her with curious eyes.

The light for them to walk illuminated the sidewalk. Derek had just walked out when Ramsey yelled and pulled back on his jacket, saving him from the oncoming slew of bicyclists that weaved in between traffic, cheers coming from most of them as they rode in the road and up on the sidewalk, hindering other people's strides to get where they were trying to go. "Now I remember."

x

Once at the hospital, Ramsey rounded the corner of the surgical floor, her interns following her intently as she went on her search to find the Chief.

"Fools. Riding around town, not caring if they get themselves or anyone else killed in the process." She shook her head, not really talking to a certain individual.

"What's going on with the Nazi?" Scott whispered to his friends. "Why is everyone on the tip of their toes this morning?"

Lydia looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You really don't know about the race?"

Ramsey, seeing the Chief with Peter at the OR board, lead her interns over to him, interrupting their conversation about the easy day they were due to have with such a nice looking set of surgeries scheduled. Deaton looked at their group with a quiet mystery, turning away from Dr. Hale and looking at his pupil turned resident.

"Everything alright?"

"For now. The Dead Baby Bike Race just started half an hour ago."

The staff in the surrounding area stopped where they were upon hearing the news. For a moment, nobody did anything. Then the Chief cleared his throat before he bellowed, "Dead Baby Bike Race day, people, let's get to work." Deaton gave Peter a glance and he erased the entire OR board for the incoming racers that were sure to fill up the ER within a matter of minutes.

Ramsey herded them away from the nurse's station, walking around the hospital while they all headed to the Pit for the incoming traumas.

"Alright, the Chief needs an intern. Who wants it?"

Like she expected, all of their hands flew up in eager movements to get to do something truly amazing with the Chief of Surgery.

"Isaac."

He gloated his whole way away from them as he headed toward the OR floor, seriously making Ramsey question whether or not she had made the right choice. "Okay, the rules of trauma-"

"Discharge fast, sew faster, and get patients up to the OR." Lydia piped up, a sense of gratification against her fair skin.

"What she said." Ramsey rolled her eyes. "But if you do that again, you'll be on scut for a month. Got it?" Stiles bit his lip to keep from laughing at the way she had shut Lydia up in a second. "Don't let the ER interns get in your way, they don't know a scalpel from a butter knife. And no fighting over patients, or else. Let's go."

Ramsey led them through the ER doors, where the sounds and ails of several people who had participated in the bike race were trying to get their injuries fixed so they could hurry up and get back to the race before someone won the coveted prize of free tequila shots. Everyone was going every which way around the ER, trying to contain the chaos that they had brought to Seattle Grace.

"It's like Christmas, but with sutures." Lydia said, her eyes twinkling at the prospect of getting a really good case that would require an even better surgery. "So much better than that Easy Bake Oven I always wanted."

"Ooh," Allison saw a guy who had three nurses by him, which could only mean that they were probably stumped as the next action to do. "That one's mine."

"Not if I get there before you do." Racing over to the scene Allison had her sights on, Lydia went off at a run.

"No fair, I saw him first!"

Ramsey shook her head as they both went for the patient together, making her wish she was with any set of interns besides the ones that had plagued her life ever since their first day here at the hospital. Stiles' eyes fell on a guy that had what looked like nails in the side of his stomach, causing the medicine driven sentiments in him to run rampant.

"I'll take him."

Stiles went over to him, shocked that his friends weren't clawing at his eyes to take the case away from him. Stiles greeted him, concealing them behind a curtain to give them a little bit of privacy, his eyes scanning over the guy's chart. Stiles did his best to remain professional, but the guy was pretty cute, so he had to constantly remind himself that he was doctor and he needed to act like it.

"Is it alright if I just pull these out and get back to my race?" The man's accent was instantly recognized by Stiles, making him wish he was in England, where the guy was ultimately from.

"I'm sorry, but we can't just pull them out. There could be a rupture or-" He looked on in horror as the guy starting pulling them out, grunting as he did the exact opposite of what he probably should have been doing. "No, no, stop! You could be doing more damage to yourself."

But he wasn't having anything that Stiles tried to offer. After he ripped out the last one, Stiles frantically searched the wound to see how badly he was bleeding from the extraction. Only there wasn't really anything at all.

"Holy...completely superficial..."

"Alright then, I'm fine. I can get back to the race now, yes?"

x

Derek thought this whole Dead Baby Bike Race thing was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Who participated in a race where the only rule was that you couldn't claw someone's eyes out, but everything else was fair game? It was ludicrous, and Derek just knew that something really bad was going to come of it before the race was finished, assuming that all the participants hadn't been admitted to various hospitals already. He walked into the trauma room to answer his page, seeing Allison and Lydia fighting over who's patient he was really coming to see. He set their feud aside in his mind as he shuffled around the room.

"What do we have?"

"John Doe," Lydia beckoned. "He's in his mid-thirties, hit by a motorist swerving to avoid a bike from the race, pupils fixed and dilated, GCS 3, BP 183 over 112. Atropine was given for a pulse in the forties-"

"And we gave him a gram of phenytoin." Allison butted in.

Peter came into the room then, hearing just enough where he didn't have to ask any further questions, watching as Derek looked the patient over in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him. "Is he corked?" he shot at his nephew.

Reluctantly, Derek nodded. "Appears so."

"And so we have the first victim of the Dead Baby Bike Race." Peter shook his head.

"Wait, so no OR?"

Lydia snorted at Allison. "No point in taking a dead guy to the OR, Argent."

"Six hours," Derek told them. "Do an EEG, and in six hours, if nothing changes, declare him."

Derek left them to their tests, which they wasted no time in starting.

"No reflexes in the corneas." Lydia stated.

"We're just supposed to watch him die if he doesn't respond within six hours?"

"If he doesn't respond, then he's just dead, Allison."

"He has a heartbeat, Lydia. He's alive and breathing. He could wake up. Miracles are a thing."

She scoffed. "You're a doctor, Argent. Miracles don't exist to us."

"An hour ago, he was out there, living his life. Look at the seam on his pants." Lydia humored her, looking and seeing that it was freshly stitched back together. "He isn't just a body for us to watch whiter away to nothing. He has a life, a family. It would be a waste to just watch him stay like this."

A thought stormed into the front part of Lydia's mind. Allison wasn't going to like it, but she had to think about the best case scenario that she could when they had a patient who was basically already gone. "It would be a waste. A waste of organs."

x

Stiles was sewing up his British brooding guy, whom had the ridiculous name of Cobra, all while he told Stiles all about the intricacies of the Dead Baby Bike Race.

"You could have internal bleeding, you know. Pulling those things out might not have been the best choice." Stiles sighed. "I need to run some tests."

"Do we really have to do that? You know I have a race to get back to."

"You can't possibly think that you have a chance at winning now. You've missed too much of the race."

"It's not about winning, it's about finishing." he wiggled his eyebrows at him, causing Stiles to shake it head. "I really can't stay for those tests, you see."

"You do understand that I'm advising you to stay and to leave, you're gonna have to sign a waiver."

"Understood. Give it here." Stiles handed him the chart, flipping to the page for him to sign and continuing to shake his head as Cobra articulately gave the form his best John Hancock.

Cobra stood up, grabbing Stiles without preamble and hugging him intently. He gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're alright, mate. Thanks for the help."

Stiles rolled his eyes as he watched Cobra leave the ER when he noticed that Derek was leaning off of the nearby door frame and watching Stiles with humor on his face. Derek walked the short distance over to him, the smirk on his face really making Stiles want to dash down the hall away from him.

"So we're not kissing, but you're letting patients kiss you?"

"Jealous?"

Derek laughed, shaking his dead. "I don't do jealous, Stilinski."

Walking away from the pit, Stiles shook his head, feeling like the action was going to be the theme for the day as he heard the pounding of Derek's feet as he followed him. Turning at the waist to lock eyes with Derek, Stiles just shrugged his shoulders at him.

"One time. We had sex, once."

"And there's that kiss in the elevator."

Nodding, Stiles just laughed. "And we kissed in an elevator, also a one time thing."

"Hey, Stiles." He felt Derek reach for his arm, letting him maneuver and face the attending, no longer making haste away from him as they stood in a vacant hallway away from the gossip hungry hunters that made up the hospital's staff. "Go out with me." When Stiles laughed, he let go of the intern's arm. "I'm serious."

"No!"

Stiles stormed away, laughing a little that Derek was still trying to pursue him even after they both knew how it could end, how it could get twisted into some sort of weird thing where Stiles was using Derek to get ahead in the program and Derek was getting close to Stiles instead of teaching him like he was supposed to be doing. He rounded a slightly more populated hallway, hoping that it would scare Derek off, but when he still heard the heavy footed steps bouncing off the walls behind him, Stiles stopped and looked him over again.

"I almost got run down by a racer this morning," Derek said, sympathy oozing from his blue eyes. "Think of the guilt you would carry around with you if you never got the chance to go out with me because I died in a weird bike race related accident."

"You really like yourself, don't you?"

"You could, too. If you went out with me."

"No, because, see, the way you're acting?" Stiles gestured to the smirk on his boss' face. "This whole you-only-have-a-limited-amount-of-time-to-get-with-this, only makes me think that this is fun for you. But this, being a doctor at this hospital, isn't a game to me. You've already proven yourself to be an amazing surgeon. I'm still working my way to that point."

He walked away then, glad that he had silenced him when he didn't hear his hoof beat steps following him again, allowing Stiles to find another patient and forget about the undeniable chemistry between the man that was supposed to be his teacher instead of his possible date to a dinner that, admittedly, he wanted oh so badly.

x

Still sharing the dual responsibility of their patient, both Allison and Lydia were trying to locate Ramsey to talk about their brain dead patient. They found her in OR 2, operating on a older gentleman in need of a liver transplant.

"You go." Lydia said as they looked on from outside the room leading to the OR.

"Me? This was your idea!"

A little cautious, Lydia opened up the door to the OR and walked in with Allison. Ramsey didn't even look up from her patient as she worked to resect his bowel.

"Um, Dr. Ramsey?"

"Now you see that I'm busy, Martin."

"I'm sorry." Allison piped up. "It's our patient, in three hours, we have to declare him officially brain dead."

"We want to harvest his organs."

Ramsey scoffed. "You want a harvest surgery. He's a John Doe, right? Do you know how much a long shot that is when you can't even find out the patient's name?"

"But if we can find the family?" Lydia said, her voice trembling with hope.

"And get consent."

"Then we can do the surgery?"

Ramsey sighed, knowing that if she looked up and saw her interns, that they were probably salivating at the prospect of getting to cut. "If you can locate his next of kin."

Triumphant, Lydia and Allison ran out of the room, ready to tackle their case, hoping that if they did have to declare their patient brain dead, that at least his death could mean something to a lot of people.

A little while later, when they got back to the room that John Doe was staying in, Allison found a hotel key card in the back pocket of his jacket when she was searching through his things. Lydia got paged for something down in the pit so it was up to Allison to run over to the nurse's station, begging for the nurse to call all the hotels to try and find which one it belonged to and in turn, hopefully pinpointing who exactly John Doe belonged to, and who he was before he crossed over.

"Hey."

Allison looked up and saw a smiling Stiles staring over at her as she sat down next to her patient. "Hey."

"You alright?"

"Lydia wants to right this guy off." Allison shook her head. "She basically wants him to hurry up and get to perform the harvest surgery we're hoping to go for. But it's just weird, you know? He had this whole life that we don't know about. We don't even know his name."

Alarms went off then, scaring the shit out of both of them as the EKG went haywire.

"He's coding!"

"So call it, Allison!"

"He's brain dead, I'm not supposed to. But it hasn't been six hours yet. He's supposed to get six hours." Allison just stared Stiles down. "He has a right to the entire six hours."

"Let's go for it." Stiles nodded. "I'll get the blood, you get the dopamine and let's transfuse him."

Once they finally had him stable, Stiles and Allison were looking for Lydia to tell her what was going on, but she wasn't answering her page. Stiles had just gotten back from another patient and Allison was filling him in on what he had missed.

"He's stable?" he asked her as they climbed up the stairs leading to the surgical floor.

Allison gave small grin. "As of right now, anyway. I had a radiologist look at his chest. They're saying it was an aortic injury. He could bleed out if he ruptures."

Lydia came running up to them. "What's going on with John Doe?"

They quickly took the time to fill her in on the answers she needed, causing her to put her hands on her hips once she was up to speed on the current state of their patient. "He's going to need a surgery."

"Well, yeah, if he's going to be a viable donor." Stiles said.

"You mean if he's going to live." Allison said.

"Allison-"

"No, Lydia, this isn't the end of his story! You guys find out how to get him that surgery, I'm going to see about the family."

She left them alone on the skywalk then, running back to the nurse's station and leaving them to twiddle their thumbs about what the next step for them to take was. Stiles just looked at Lydia and scoffed.

"She's getting way too attached."

"It's part of her charm."

"So should we go to Ramsey? She'd want to know what's going on, right?"

"No, we already told Ramsey about what's going on." Lydia shook her head, tapping her light blue painted fingernails against the hem of her scrub pants. "She wasn't happy about us interrupting her patient and-" That's when it hit Lydia like a precise and direct bolt of lightning. "Ramsey's patient. That's it, that's our way in."

x

Ramsey was really worried about her patient. His surgery had gone well, she was about to wholly fix his bowels, but it wasn't going to do much good if he didn't get a liver transplant and soon. She started to look up some possible directions for his further care while he was waiting for a liver when two of her interns came running up to her at the nurse's station just as she was typing away into the computer.

"What are you idiots up to now?"

"Your patient needs a liver transplant right?"

Lydia's question, though utterly innocent in nature, just made Ramsey's blood boil. She was an intern after all, and Ramsey never really liked interns even when she was one. "At the top of the waiting list, but with his condition...we'll see."

"And he's O-Neg?" Stiles added.

"Where is this going, Stilinski?"

"We gave him a blood transfusion and-"

"You did a blood transfusion on a patient without consulting anyone?" Ramsey yelled at Lydia with rage filled irises. She couldn't believe her luck with interns this year. The hospital really knew how to stick her with the grunts year after year. "I should be throwing your asses under the bus and going straight to the Chief."

"We're hoping you won't do that because you're guy is a match." Lydia explained. "He can save your patient's life."

x

Stiles and Allison watched on from the gallery as Lydia assisted Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Peter Hale on fixing John Doe's aortic injury and, pending the consent from the family, a later surgery for his organ donation. Allison wished she was in on the surgery, that she hadn't spent so much time looking for the family instead of practicing more of the medicine like Lydia and eventually Stiles had, but she was glad that John Doe was getting a chance, and that he was getting the surgery that he needed to repair his damaged heart.

"Dr. Argent."

Allison craned her neck to see a nurse hanging inside of the gallery. "It's your John Doe. They've found his family, his wife is on the way."

"Thank God."

She made her way out of the gallery and found a young beautiful tan woman standing by at the nurse's station nodding at the nurse as she attempted to explain what was going on with her husband, tears swirling around the rims of her eyes. Allison approached the woman eagerly, her brain swarming with everything that she was probably going to have to ask of this woman when it came to her husband, especially if they still had to declare him.

"Are you my husband's doctor?" The woman said with sorrow in her tone. "The police told me that it's him, that it's Rogan."

"That's your husband's name?"

"Yes, yes, Rogan Flannery, I'm his wife, Charlotte. Oh God!"

Peter and Ramsey appeared behind Allison then, wheeling over Mr. Flannery and putting him back in his room. Charlotte ran over in an instant, Allison tailing her and heading to where her superiors were gathering.

"Is there a chance?" Charlotte asked Ramsey and Peter.

"We repaired the damage to his heart," Peter nodded. "But there's still no change in his brain activity."

"We can hold off until morning." Ramsey assured her. "After that..."

Lydia came into the room then, eyeing Charlotte with ease and a steady confidence that she always seemed to be carrying around with her. "If he hasn't changed in the morning, we'd like to talk to you about organ donation."

x

Stiles had had it with this day. The rest of his work day wasn't too awful, except for the fact that Isaac had been boasting about being the Chief's right hand all day and that he'd been in surgery for hours upon hours and that he was easily going to be the breakout star of their group of interns. It also didn't help that he lived with Isaac now. So when he came home from a very long day of dealing with not being in surgery or dealing with anything beyond Lydia and Allison's John Doe, which he had really barely assisted with, and trying to deal with his inner turmoil, still, when he thought about Derek to see Allison and Isaac in the living room watching his mother's old surgery tapes, he saw the deepest darkest shade of red that his rage had could conjure up.

They noticed him hanging off of the living room, looking at him like they wanted him to give them some type of approval about what they were doing, but Stiles could only stare at them silently in a fit of unspoken malevolence.

"I hope you don't mind," Allison was the first to break the silence between them. "I unpacked some of your mother's boxes in my room and we found these old surgery tapes and-"

"We just sort of went crazy." Isaac explained. "You wanna join us?"

"No!" Stiles screamed. "No, we're not watching my mother's tapes, we're not talking about my mother's skills, in fact, let's never talk about my mother at all. Mama Stilinski is off limits, got it? Put the tapes away and forget you ever saw them!"

He stormed away from them, getting angrier with each added step he took down the hall.

"Damn, what crawled up his ass and died?" Isaac snorted.

"And I heard that!"

Allison and Isaac covered their mouths and laughed quietly at Stiles reaction, a fuming Stiles slamming his bedroom door at them before taking refuge in his massive king sized bed.

When morning came once again, Stiles got out of his car upon his arrival back at Seattle Grace, walking in step with Scott once he saw him across the parking lot.

"I'm gonna kill them." Stiles told him with a breath of vehemence. "Allison's all nice and the human version of sunshine and Isaac's...all Isaac-y and..." He sighed. "They got into my mother's tapes. When have I ever talked about my mother in front of you guys that would let them think it was okay to do something like that?"

"It's your house, Stiles." Scott said, gripping his coffee extra tight as he took a sip. "They don't have to live with you. Kick them out."

"Like I can do that. I asked them to move in, remember?"

"So what's your plan? Keep everything bottled up in a dark room inside of you until you can't take anymore and snap, killing their entire lineage?"

Grabbing his friends' coffee, Stiles took a sip, awed at how good the dark roast was, and then handed it back to Scott. "Yep."

They walked through the automatic doors of the hospital as Scott shot him a smile. "This is why we're friends, Stilinski."

While they headed over to the elevator, Lydia, looking like she had just rolled out of bed, her hair all askew, said, "Why is the Nazi making us spend another day in the pit?"

"Leftovers." Stiles nodded. "Cyclists that didn't think it was anything serious yesterday."

"Well, I'm getting out of it. I have to talk about organ donation with former John Doe's wife."

x

When Ramsey finally entered the conference room, Lydia knew that she could begin her talk with Charlotte Flannery about her husband's current quality of life. Overnight, there was no change in Rogan's condition and when his doctors had checked on him earlier in the morning, he still wasn't responding to any of their efforts to comfort Charlotte about her husband waking up. Ramsey just stood in the corner, eyeing Lydia in anticipation.

With a quick breath, Lydia began her questions for the young wife. "This form," she pushed a piece of paper over to her. "Just says that you agree to sign over most of his major organs. Lungs, heart, kidneys and, of course, his liver." Charlotte quickly signed the papers, remaining quiet for fear of breaking down over the still very new idea of her husband dying. "How about his corneas?"

"You want his eyes?"

"They can help people regain their sight."

"Oh." Charlotte nodded. "I guess I can do that."

"Now what about his skin?"

"I'm sorry, his skin?"

Lydia nodded, not really feeling anything but the medical side of their conversation. "Burn victims receive the donations to help graft skin back onto their bodies."

"What about the viewing? How am I supposed to have a viewing with his skin gone?. It's his skin!"

Standing up, Lydia stormed out of the room, nowhere near the right mood to deal with her hysterics as Charlotte began to cry, exiting the room to end her interactions with the patient's wife. Lydia found herself pacing out in the hall just outside of the conference room when Ramsey found her way over to her.

"I can't deal with that." Lydia told her before she started in on her. "I'm a doctor, not a therapist."

"So act like it." Ramsey said in a stern tone. "You're forgetting that these are people, Martin. You're patient may be legally dead, but the life he had, the life of his wife, of his family and friends, that hasn't disappeared. These are people with very real emotions and you can't just write them off as being unreasonable just because you're unable to put yourself within their state of mind." Ramsey scoffed, instantly turning off her nice-guy routine because, Lydia assumed, it just wasn't natural for her. "And whoever told you being a surgeon was easy? Get back in there and do your job."

Another breathy exhale later, Lydia put on her game face once again and walked into the room, instantly apologizing to Charlotte about her loss and the circumstances that she was having to endure as her husband's life hung in the balance with what was sure to only be for a few more hours.

x

Stiles was with Scott in the pit, really just watching as his friend lazily sutured up another cyclist from yesterday that, like predicted earlier, couldn't be bothered to come to the hospital yesterday. He was just about to grab the chart of another patient when out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Cobra sitting just outside the pit, just sitting there looking like he wasn't waiting for anything or anyone, his head hung like he was tired.

"Cobra?"

"I'm sorry?" The nurse answered him.

He waved her off, making his way over to Cobra to find out what he was doing back inside the walls of Seattle Grace Hospital. When he finally came upon his old patient, he fully planned on Cobra giving him some type of remark that would cause him to smile like most of their interactions yesterday had, but Cobra just looked up, his face sunken in and his skin was paler than paper.

"Cobra, what happened?"

He didn't answer. He stood up, his hands going to his side while he winced at the pain that Stiles could read all over his face. No warning heeding his actions, Cobra coughed up a spray of blood, collapsing on the floor before Stiles could catch him.

"Cobra! Someone help!"

A nurse ran to get him some help, trying to help him. Stiles pulled up Cobra's shirt where he had been clutching it, shrieking a little when he saw that Cobra's stitches had torn altogether and that his side was so swollen, Stiles could have mistaken it for a mass on the side of Cobra's stomach.

When they finally got Cobra on a gurney, Stiles had climbed on top of him, executing to the best of his ability the act of holding together the wound, his hands coated with the slick warm feeling of Cobra's blood oozing out around his fingers. Scott was pushing the gurney, his eyes wide at the amount of blood pouring out of the young man Stiles was straddling. They met Ramsey just outside of OR 3, Stiles still trying to keep Cobra from bleeding out more than the fountain of lifeblood that was gushing past his flesh.

"Someone help my intern off of my patient." Ramsey bellowed to the buzzing staff that poured into the room for the emergency operation. "Stilinski, get scrubbed in."

"Should I join you, Dr. Ramsey?" Scott hoped.

"And leave the pit unattended? Goodbye."

Stiles gave his friend the shrug of his shoulders as the only consolation for all of his efforts in helping save Cobra while he was helped off of his patient's body, hoping that they could find some way to save the man before it was too late.

x

Enjoying their surgery, Allison and Lydia stared back at each other, smiles on both of their faces as they helped Peter with the extraction of Rogan's organs. Other staff was crowded around them, waiting for the organs to take to their various locations, except for the liver that going to OR 1, where Ramsey's liver transplant patient was waiting for his new liver with a different resident since Ramsey was tied up in another case.

As the last of Rogan's vital organs were removed from his body, Allison moved closer to him, leaning down to whisper into his ear, no matter how ridiculous she knew it probably seemed to those around her.

"You did good, Rogan." She eyed Lydia then, who just nodded back at her, silently understanding what she felt she had to do. "You saved a lot of lives today. Because of you, people are going to live. I just hope, somehow, someway, you know that."

"Dr. Argent," Peter called, clearly moved at her impressively hands on bedside manner. "Would you like to close?"

"Really?" Her eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger if she had gotten some type of weird, out of the country eye transplant.

"Hurry up, before I change my mind."

Greedily, Allison reached for the scissors, knowing that her hard work and deep connection to her patient had paid off in the end. No matter who told her that she was too emotionally involved with her patients, she knew that it was what made her a better doctor. And no one could convince her otherwise.

x

Walking with Ramsey over to a group of Dead Baby Bike Racers, Stiles waited patiently with his arms by his side while Cobra's friends looked up at them for the news of Cobra's surgery.

"Are you the friends of Copperhead?" she said to them, looking like she really didn't want to be talking to the idiot participants in the bike race that had caused so many of the doctors' time to fluxuate with insane and, usually, very preventable surgeries.

"It's Cobra, Dr. Ramsey." Stiles said, smashing his lips together to stop the laughter that boiled behind his lips.

"Is he going to make it? I mean, he never finished the race, even after he promised he would." a girl with a snake tattoo on her forehead spoke up.

"Yeah, is Cobes gonna be okay?" A guy, also with some variation of snake tattoo on his exposed torso, inquired.

Ramsey shifted her feet as she glared at them with her mouth open. "Okay? Your fellow snake named friend threw himself into oncoming traffic for free liquor! He possibly ran down pedestrians on their ways home or to work for some stupid bike race that doesn't mean anything. He's an idiot, a grade A fool, riding around without concern for himself and those around him, endangering all of Seattle for some damn alcohol. So no, he's not okay. He's stupid." Ramsey huffed as she pummeled the floor in her retreat from them, letting other grievances leave her mouth about their friend and their own stupidity about being in the bike race as she receded from them.

They all looked defeated as hell when Stiles cleared his throat. "Sorry. She's had a really long day. She has like four different surgeries going on right now and...anyway, uh, Cobra's gonna live. He's, he's gonna make a full recovery." He smiled at them.

x

Another work day coming to a close, Stiles was the last one to be packing up for the day in the interns' locker room. He was all alone until he looked up and saw Derek stalking into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Derek-"

"It's not a game to me." Derek swore. "It's not the thrill of the chase or whatever you were thinking. It's your determination that keeps me coming back to you." Derek let his head fall slightly, and when he raised it back up to lock eyes with Stiles, he was smiling mischievously. "And your eyes."

"My eyes, huh?" Stiles smiled big, despite the way that he was feeling about how they just couldn't do this whole thing right now.

"Mhm. They're pretty captivating, that mossy brown mixed with chocolate that I really like. And you're pretty bossy and assertive, both in and out of the bedroom."

Laughing wildly, Stiles shook his head at the older man. "I'm still not going out with you."

"You'll cave eventually." Derek strode over to him, getting really, really close to Stiles. Close enough that Stiles could feel Derek's breath on his face as Derek leaned in, whispering in his ear. "Until then, I'll be waiting."

Stiles shivered at the air in his ear, and at the hot way Derek had just set his skin on fire. But Derek gave him one last devilish grin before he walked out of the locker room, not allowing Stiles to say anything at all in response to what had just occurred between them, which Stiles was a little glad for because he didn't know what gibberish would have left his lips after the slightly erotic encounter that he had just shared with the head of Neurosurgery.

x

"This is totally my favorite one so far!"

The front door swung open as Stiles entered his house, hearing something really loud playing on the television in the living room. When he walked in, he saw a familiar scene as Isaac and Allison were watching another video of the infamous Claudia Leigh's surgeries. But this time, Lydia and Scott had joined them on the couch to view the tapes. Pizza and beer were placed haphazardly on the coffee table and another box of pizza laid on the only part of the couch that wasn't holding one of his friends in its place. They finally noticed him hovering in the area between the hallway that lead to the kitchen and the living room. Allison's face was full of guilt, and Isaac's was a little less obviously, but Stiles saw regret in his eyes. Eyeing Lydia, Scott blurted out "Lydia made us!"

Lydia looked like she was fully prepared to take the brute of Stiles' yelling, but his latest interaction with Derek had made him uneasy, but in the best way possible. So much so, that it had calmed his annoyance with the whole living situation with his friends and the invasion of his mother's legacy. In this moment, looking at his friends trying to learn from his mother's surgeries, Stiles couldn't help but admit that this was what his life was supposed to look like right now.

"There better be a pepperoni pizza in there for me."

His friends hoorayed for him joining them, assuring him that there was in fact a whole pizza with his name on it as they made room for him on the couch, happy they their friend was allowing them to try and use the late Claudia Leigh as inspiration for future surgeries.

And Stiles, well, Stiles was just happy that he had friends to fall back on. He knew that it didn't matter what circumstances popped up in his life, because he had a group of people that could help remind him what it all was really about, and for him right now in this moment, it was that there was so much more to life and his career than races, whether they be literal or figurative like the ones he would continue to participate in at Seattle Grace Hospital. And it didn't hurt that a certain brain surgeon was waiting for him at the finish line.


	4. Do You Remember?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison's secret past is revealed when another patient recognizes her, leading to the discovery of what exactly she did before medical school to the entire hospital. An old scrub nurse of his father brings up unsettled emotions within Stiles that causes a rift between him and a patient admitted with nails in his head, all while Derek is left in the wake of the chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this series, Stiles' father's name is Asher. Just a note to anyone reading and wondering who everyone is talking about.

  Writing a check to the Seattle Adult Care Facility, Stiles was reminiscing about his life, before all the parental drama, before all the being an intern stress. He had an amazing childhood. After he finished scribing away at the check in front of him, sitting at the small desk in the den at home, he pulled out one of the many photo albums that his mother had always been keen on updating before she had passed away. He found himself in a picture where he was laughing without inhibition. His mother was behind the camera and his father was in the leaves with him, a smile on his face as well. So much had changed. Too much had changed.

  He let the memories fall from his list of priorities as the overwhelming need to ingest coffee overtook whatever else he had planned to do. As he went by the kitchen, he passed Allison who was wearing bright pink panties and a ratty crop top t-shirt that she had slept in.

  "Morning." Allison smiled as she headed for the bathroom.

  Stiles just let out a laugh. "Yeah, morning."

  Allison pushed her way into the bathroom, where Isaac was already occupying by the act of taking a shower. She ignored him, going up to the bathroom sink.

  "Um, hello? I'm kind of in here."

  She ignored him again, grabbing a toothbrush from the small cup that they resided in on the sink. She quickly began brushing her teeth before exiting the bathroom.

  "Was that my toothbrush?" Isaac yelled as he slipped in the shower and had to grab onto the support bar to keep from slipping completely.

  Once they got to Seattle Grace, they all piled out of Stiles' jeep, Isaac was trying to explain to both of his roommates that there was a certain thing known to mankind as privacy.

  "I'm just saying, a knock or two would be great."

  "Honestly, Isaac, we're doctors." Stiles told him as they worked the parking lot like their own personal runway. "It's not like we haven't seen everything that you're working with."

  "Oh, and also, it's your turn to do the shopping and I need tampons."

  Isaac stopped where he was, Allison and Stiles continuing their parade into the hospital. "I don't buy tampons. I'm a guy."

  "Stiles bought them for me last time, he's a guy."

  "Stiles is gay, it's different."

  "Okay, that was offensive." Stiles scoffed as they finally made entered the building.

  "I'm sorry. I'm just saying, I'm entitled to my own personal space."

  "It's almost five in the morning, Lahey." They all approached the elevators, Stiles sighing deeply. "Can we talk about this later?"

  Ramsey walked into the interns' locker room, taking a moment to try and not get annoyed with them since they were only getting dressed for their early morning shifts and not necessarily doing anything that affected her in any way, but she still didn't like interns. She spotted her group of misfits over in the corner, talking amongst themselves. A small smile inched over her face, taking great joy in interrupting their fun.

  "Alright, pre-rounds. You're the first person the patients see in the morning. You're going to be polite. You apologize for disturbing their sleep. I want pre-rounds done by 5:30 people, so let's get moving."

  The resident left her interns with their fellow learning breed of doctors, allowing them their small window of time to get ready for the super early shift. Isaac slammed his locker shut, having finished in getting ready when he stole a glance at Allison, seeing the beginnings of a tattoo on the side of her stomach. She pulled on her scrub top before Isaac could see what it was and she caught him looking her over with wide eyes.

  "What?"

  "Nice tat, Argent. Didn't know you had it in you."

  "The only thing you need to know about me is that I need tampons." The surrounding interns just glanced at the pair. "Don't forget to add it to your list."

  He rolled his eyes as they put their differences at home aside and went to join the rest of their friends by Scott and Stiles' lockers.

  "I need a good patient after yesterday." Stiles scoffed as he finished getting ready. "Two colostomy patients that needed to be changed every two minutes. I'm so not in the mood for that today."

  "I'm gonna be in surgery." They all laughed at Scott's sudden burst in confidence.

  "What do you have?" Stiles pondered. "Nothing right now, just being optimistic. But even if I did, it's not like I'm telling the intern that's sleeping with an attending."

  His friends kept their mouths shut and tried to not laugh as Stiles followed Scott out of the locker room. "Hey, I'm not sleeping with-"

  And out of all the people in the hospital, Stiles had to bump into Derek at that moment. Stiles had already lost sight of Scott, so he just started walking away from Derek and the locker room, trying to start his day.

   "Who are you not sleeping with?" Derek fell into place beside him, Stiles not liking the smirk that was planted against his undeniably chiseled face.

  "No one. And it's none of your business anyway." Stiles was quick to change the subject. "Why are you here so early?"

  "Chordotomy at five. I'm heading out at six. I was thinking I could buy you some breakfast before rounds."

  Stiles shook his head. "I'm not doing this, being seen with you or whatever and giving people the wrong idea. We're co-workers. You're my boss, I'm your intern. That's it."

  "I'm trying to get to know one of my said interns. Isn't that what good attendings do?"

  "Maybe for normal attendings," He nodded as they made their way deeper into the central nervous system of the hospital and it's inner workings of medicine. "But most attendings probably haven't slept with the intern in question that they're badgering before sunrise."

  "Barely knew that intern when we slept together." Derek smiled. "Our short time together was more about physical activity."

  "Which is exactly how it should stay. The barely knowing each other part." Stiles sighed. "Definitely not the other part."

  "Are you forgetting what happened last week?"

  Stiles didn't bother mentioning that he definitely did remember their hot interaction in the interns' locker room. Instead, he glanced at his watch before shaking his head at Derek. "You're going to be late for your chordotomy."

  "Mhm," He decided to put on his professional face and talk really loud in case people were listening like Stiles was so worried about. "Thank you for the chat, Dr. Stilinski."

  Walking even faster to get away from the embarrassment, Stiles tried his best to really think about what being with Derek would be like. He was caught between being insanely happy that he could relive their moment at the bar, before they worked together and before Stiles was trying to prove that he was a competent doctor like his parents had done with so much ease. But then he thought about the ramifications to dating his boss, or even sharing a meal with his boss, one time. People would talk. People would assume. No. No, his focus was his career right now. And that's all that really mattered.

 

  Lydia made her way into the room of the patient who's chart she pretty much had stolen from the nurse's station before Ramsey could get to it, so she could get a little bit ahead. Not to mention that she had already read over the chart and was hoping that the patient was in real need of a surgery that she had seen Stiles' mom perform on one of the tapes that they had watched last week. She flipped on the light as quietly as she could, causing the patient to stir herself awake.

  "Do you always make so much noise?"

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Tallon." Lydia apologized. "You are Lisa Tallon, right?"

  "Is that what my chart says?"

  She had to make sure that this woman wasn't related to Ramsey because that was the exact vibes she was getting from her. She instantly felt awful about her medical capabilities and doubted herself within seconds of hearing her patient speak. She fumbled a little bit as she glanced back at her chart. "Oh, you used to be a nurse here."

  "Scrub nurse." Lisa nodded.

  "And your chart also says that you have an abdominal mass that's usually consistent with pancreatic cancer."

  Lisa scoffed. "I bet you're hoping that I need a Whipple, pancreatic duodectomy. Seattle Grace doesn't see very many of those, do they?"

  "You know you're stuff." Lydia laughed. "And I'm just looking to assist." she lied.

  "That why you got here at four thirty in the morning?" "Four, actually." The woman threw her head back and cackled a short guffaw in Lydia's honor "I bet you took my chart before anybody else could see it. Try and educate your attending on my case so he picks you to scrub in on my surgery." Lisa chuckled again. "I know all the ins and outs, doctor..."

  "Lydia Martin."

  "I'll call you Lydia." She nodded, before cutting eyes at her intensely. "You'll call me Nurse Tallon."

 

  Another light blinded a patient as Allison stepped inside the once shadow surrounded room. She thought she heard him curse under the winds of his breath as she walked over to him, keeping his chart close to her chest. "I'm sorry to wake you, Mr. McDermott."

  "I had almost forgotten how much that light is like a small sun." he scoffed, covering his eyes as he tried to focus on the change in lighting. "What time is it anyway?"

  "A little after Five. I'm sorry again. If you could sit up for me, I just have to-" Mr. McDermott finally took in her features, recoiling as Allison reached for him with her gloved hands. "Mr. McDermott-"

  "Get out of my room."

  "Mr. McDermott, did I say something-"

  "You're not a doctor."

  "I'm Dr. Allison Argent," She nodded, not really understanding why he was looking at her like she was some sort of celebrity. "I'm one of Dr. Ramsey's intern. I just need to do a brief exam and you can go back to sleep."

  "Is this you?" Mr. McDermott grabbed the magazine laying on the rolling table next to his bed. He flipped through it and then showed her the page in question. Allison's heart dropped. It was just like last week, when she had sewn up a drunk guy that thought he recognized her in a magazine. This was that magazine. The picture displayed in front of her was like looking into a mirror, because it indeed was her. She was lounging on a couch in the magazine, wearing a bright red bikini and giving the camera a sultry look, her hazel orbs the very definition of bedroom eyes.

  "Mr. McDermott-"

  "That's what I thought." He scoffed. "Get out." When she didn't move, he slammed his fists down on the table and yelled, "Get out!" so loud that Allison discouragingly left the room with haste.

 

  Right when Stiles had gotten out of his patient's room and was walking down the hall, Isaac immediately bombarded him by walking next to him. Not even a second passed before Isaac opened up his mouth, Stiles regretting the fact that he wasn't hearing impaired in any way.

  "About earlier, I'm suggesting that we put some rules in place, for the sake of privacy."

  "Are you getting all bent out of shape because Allison was in her underwear? Would it bother you if I strolled around my own house in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs?"

  "I would have pegged you as a boxer man, to be honest."

  "Isaac-"

  "No, it's not about what you guys are or aren't wearing. Allison grabbed my toothbrush this morning and was using it. While I was in the shower, dude."

  As they took a corner, Stiles gave Isaac an expression full of questions and raised eyebrows. "It's because you have a crush on Allison, isn't it? That's what this is really about?"

  "What?! No! She's not the one I'm into."

  "Oh, so there's a one?" Isaac, feelings the heat rising to his cheeks instantly, shook his head at the incredibly annoying look on Stiles' face as the latter laughed in small bursts.

  "You're missing the point, Stiles. There just need to be some rules, okay?"

  Both of them made their way to the nurse's station, where Ramsey was waiting for them with a very pinched and irritated glance on her face. "Good, you're not busy."

  "Actually-" Isaac began, but Stiles elbowed him in the chest, silencing his argument with their resident.

  "Like I was saying," Ramsey rolled her eyes. "Go find McCall and head down to Trauma. Nephew Hale is waiting for you down there."

  "Nephew Hale?" Stiles bit his lip as Isaac pondered the nickname, earning both of them a side-eye from their resident.

  "I don't have time for you interns to ask me which Hale I'm talking about. Since they're related, Nephew Hale and Uncle Hale is how I'm separating them from now on."

  "Isn't Hale in surgery?" Stiles stated.

  "Got pulled before he could start." Ramsey flicked her wrists at them. "Now quit wasting my time and get down to Trauma. Now."

  After finding Scott, the three of them made their way down to trauma. They moseyed their way over to where Derek was inside of Trauma Room 1, overlooking the x-rays that he held up for them to see upon their entry. There was a man laying motionless on the table, a nurse cutting away at his tattered clothes.

  "Those look like-"

  "Nails." Derek said with a sigh, nodding at Stiles' inquiry.

  The x-ray revealed seven nails embedded in the man's skull. Clearly, he hadn't survived the obvious headache. That's when the patient threw up his hands unexpectedly, causing Scott to jump and let out a little yelp in response to the movement.

  "Doc, I can't see my hands." The patient bellowed.

  "Jesus Christ, he's conscious." Scott said in utter awe.

  "Make sure he doesn't move." Derek told them. "The last thing we need is anything shifting." He glanced over at the nurse, who was standing by for further instructions from the handsome attending. "Turn his titrate up to ten, administer four milligrams of morphine."

  "I still can't see!"

  Stiles put a hand on the patient's arm, trying to get him to stay still. "We're going to try and figure out why that is. We just need to you lie still, sir."

  "Cruiser. His name is George Cruiser. He fell down some stairs while holding a nail gun." Derek told them.

  "Wicked." Isaac shook his head, still transfixed by the x-ray that detailed Mr. Cruiser's current predicament.

  "It's as close to a miracle as I've ever seen that he managed to miss a blood vessel. Optic nerve's been affected, obviously." George didn't move when Derek prodded him in the side of his stomach. "You didn't feel that?"

  George shook his head. "Is that a bad thing?"

  "We won't know more until we run some tests." The interns watched as Derek turned to them. "What's our immediate concern, given the numbness on the right side?"

  "Infection." Stiles blurted out.

  Nodding, Derek handed him the chart. "Good. I want to pull these nails out in the next half hour. Clear a CT for me."

  The nurse, still residing in the room, cleared her throat before she spoke. "Good luck. CT's are down."

  A scoff leaving his lips, Derek sighed. "What?"

  "They're supposed to have them back up and running by one. Computer's crashed last night."

  "Great." Stiles looked over his new patient's chart, looking up just in time to see Isaac and Scott receive a nod in their direction from Derek. "You two, dig up some research and see if anything like this has ever happened, something that might be able to help us in aiding Mr. Cruiser here. In the meantime, George, Dr. Stilinski here is going to take you down to get some films."

  "Can someone call my wife? I don't want her to worry." George said, doing his best to not move on the table like he had been previously instructed.

  "Already on the way, Mr. Cruiser." The nurse assured him.

  "Look for any changes." Derek whispered to Stiles as he got up. "I'll check in later."

  He earned himself a pair of questioning stares when Derek left, causing Stiles to shrug at them. "I can't help it you two didn't react fast enough."

  "Or maybe Hale has a favorite." Isaac determined.

  "Oh please. You can't even bring yourself to buy tampons for Allison."

  "You won't buy tampons for your girl?" George butted in. "You gotta do stuff like that, trust me."

  Scott laughed as Isaac left in a huff, nodding at Stiles in an unspoken congratulations on getting himself assigned to a case. Stiles proceeded to get his patient ready for transport so he could get the films Derek wanted, all while thoughts of his last interaction with Derek swirled around in his head as he thought about how they were going to be able to work together with those thoughts buzzing in the forefront of his thoughts.

 

  "Fifty-five year old woman with adenocarcinoma of the pancreas. She's had the tumor load lessened with the assistant of radiation therapy. Nausea, but no vomiting. Her pain has been rated at a three out of ten by her own standards. Diarrhea, melena, afebrile with T-max 37-2 and stable vital signs. Lab results revealed elevated liver enzymes."

  Lydia was presenting the case to Dr. Hale, or Uncle Hale as Lydia had heard from Isaac that Ramsey was dubbing him from now on, hoping that she was going to be assigned to the case for her knowledge of the patient's current and past history. The Chief was also there, but that didn't bother Lydia. In fact, she was glad he was there. All the more reason for everyone to know that she was the best intern at Seattle Grace Hospital, especially if the Chief himself saw so.

  "Dr. Martin, thank you."

  "Aggressive, isn't she?" Lisa laughed. "Pretty sure she stole my chart from the nurse's station before anyone else could get their hands on it." Peter and Deaton both laughed at her explanation, giving a very lazy and confusing glance in Lydia's direction. "I think she's hoping for a Whipple."

  "I was thinking about giving you another one of Ramsey's interns." Deaton nodded. "Stilinski."

  Eyes flexing, Lisa looked from Peter to Deaton with huge recognition. "Asher's son?"

  "You knew Stiles' dad?"

  Lisa nodded, ignoring Lydia's question, her eyes still stuck on Deaton as he spoke. "He's a first year. I figured maybe the two of you could swap stories."

  "Ha!" She mocked him, humoring Lydia by including her in the conversation with a stare. "I was that man's scrub nurse for eighteen years and I never met your friend once."

  "Regardless, my dear nephew has Stilinski on the guy with nails in his head."

  "There's a guy with nails in his head?!" The three of them looked at Lydia like she had gotten over zealous with her earlier stealing on Lisa's chart.

  "Shot himself in the head with a nail gun. Seven of them, right there in his skull." Peter nodded.

  "And he's still alive?"

  Deaton smiled. "Should be a very interesting surgery."

  "But you got the Whipple." Peter joined in on Lydia's furthering misery by flashing her a smile before he took the chart on the end of Lisa's bed and thrust the binding book back into her awaiting hands. "Let's get started with an abdominal CT and a full blood work up."

  "CT's down this morning." Deaton said.

  "MRI is fine then. Ms. Tallon is going to need an enema and an ERCP for a stent and brush biopsy for this afternoon."

  "Take care of our Lisa," Deaton smiled at the patient, his bright smile beaming down on the older woman's tanned skin. "She's a household name around here."

  Snorting as both Deaton and Peter left, Lisa crossed her arms over her chest as she looked over Lydia once more. "Great call. Stilinski has a human two-by-four and you're stuck with the household name in need of an enema."

 

  Standing outside of the scrub room, Allison couldn't get her mind off of her patient and how he knew what she feared would get out. The fact that he even possessed that magazine back in his room brought the idea of theft to her as a possible way to keep her secrets from becoming the new topic of the gossip mill. And as if she wasn't having a bad enough day, Ramsey happened to storm down the hall in her direction at that exact moment.

  "Good, he's prepped."

  "Yeah, I think they're finishing up now." she said, peering in through the window of the door and nodding once she looked back into the agitated features on her boss' face.

  "I'm sorry, you think? Why aren't you in there doing it yourself? Are you a doctor?" Ramsey pushed past her then, not giving Allison a reason to deliver an excuse to her ears.

  After taking a deep breath, Allison decided to fight the odds of her patient and swirled around, making her own way into the room. Ramsey gave Mr. McDermott a smile as a couple of the scrub nurse team continued to fine tune the room for the procedure. "Mr. McDermott, if you're ready we're going to go ahead and get started."

  "That's fine." He returned the smile she had offered him, but it quickly died from his lips when he saw Allison out of the corner of his eyes. "Get her out of here! I'm serious, she can't be in here!"

  "Mr. McDermott, calm down!"

  "I won't do this if she's here! Get the Chief in here right now, I won't have her in here with me!"

  "Why are you-"

  "It's fine, Dr. Ramsey." Allison shuffled her feet quickly. "I can go."

  She fled from the room like it was on fire. Allison heard the ending of Ramsey telling Mr. McDermott to calm himself before their administered something that would do it for him until she heard the door fall back to a slam, thankful that she was away from the wrath of Ramsey for the time being, and also from the man that knew absolutely way too much about her than she would have cared for.

 

   "Will he be able to see again?"

  Stiles was walking down the hall with Sonya Cruiser, his patient's wife, trying to get a brief medical history from her about her husband before he went down to OR 2 and scrubbed in with Derek on his surgery.

  "Nothing's for sure until after the nails come out." Stiles admitted to her, picking at his cuticles at the thought of being in the operating room with Derek again.

   It was making him surprisingly nervous, considering he had already done it once. But for whatever reason, anxiety overcame Stiles when he thought about assisting Derek with George's surgery. Realizing that he wasn't paying enough attention to Sonya, Stiles coughed a couple times to shift his thoughts and once again stared into the eyes of the beautiful Latina before him.

  "He has to see again. He's such an amazing photographer. Did he tell you? Breathtaking pictures. I bought him a camera for Christmas last year and he's gotten so amazing at using it since then." she smiled warmly, probably thinking back to moments when her husband wasn't hindered by steel approaching on his brain.

  "Has George had any headaches recently? Or even dizziness or disorientation?"

  Sonya thought on it for a couple seconds before Stiles could feel the fear emanating from her eyes. "Yes, the past couple of months, all of that."

  Scribbling down on George's chart, Stiles gave her a wobbly smile. "Alright. Thank you, Sonya."

  "Dr. Stilinski-"

  "Stiles, please. Call me Stiles. Everyone does."

  "Stiles then." She attempted to smile at him, but her worry made it deteriorate in milliseconds, coming off as a sort of line of concern on her face. "Is my husband going to be alright?"

  "We're going to do everything we can, I swear. I'm going to go join Dr. Hale in surgery and we'll come find you as soon as we know anything."

  Another nod later, Stiles thanked Sonya again and left down the hall, hoping he could keep his silent word to her that a good outcome was in her husband's very near future.

 

  She was going over a couple things in Mr. McDermott's chart, puzzling in some updates that she had forgotten to pencil in, when Ramsey found her by the nurse's station.

  "You ready to tell me what was going on there?"

  "Nothing." Allison swore, really not wanting to talk about what was going on with the squad of nurses chattering away around them.

  "Argent."

  Allison gestured down the hall and away from the earshot of any possible eavesdroppers, ambling away from the nurse's station. Clearly reluctant, Ramsey followed her down the hall, only because she was interested in the way this was seeming to go. Pushing away the inner turmoil bubbling against her psyche, Allison withdrew a chaste breath and decided to just get everything out in the open.

  "Billie Wilds."

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Billie Wilds. It's a lingerie brand. I did a spread for Billie Wilds and he happened to come across it in a magazine."

  Allison was glad that Ramsey didn't immediately start laughing, like she always assumed would be the default reaction if she ever told anyone. But she wasn't exactly loving the gaze of disdain that her resident was sending her right now either.

  "You're working a hundred hours a week and you're still finding time to get photographed in your underwear?"

  "No," she scoffed. This wasn't going well at all. "I don't do any of that anymore. The shoot was over a year ago. I guess they finally came out with the pictures."  Finally, she saw the start of a smile chalking up around the corners of her mouth. "Look, it'd probably be a lot easier if you got another intern-"

  "Honestly Argent, I don't care what you did before this job. I don't really care what you do outside of this hospital. But when you're in this hospital, you're a doctor. I don't recall easy being a part of your job description. He's your patient, your his doctor. Biopsy these," Ramsey paused to hand her Mr. McDermott's findings from his procedure. "I fully expect to see you in surgery if these come back positive. This is your case, Allison. I suggest you make peace with that."

  Taking off, Allison hoped that telling her boss about her past with Billie Wilds didn't find it's way to the ears of her peers, or even worse, her new friends and roommates.

 

  Once he was scrubbed in for surgery, Stiles found that his earlier jitters about working alongside Derek had faded. He was here to be a surgeon after all. Isn't that why he kept telling Derek, and himself, that he couldn't relive their night after meeting at the bar across the street? The need to cut and save lives had gotten Stiles here, awaiting surgeries like this. Derek was a great doctor and he could learn a lot from him. That's what he needed to be focusing on. Not the fact that Derek's already perfect ass looked even better in his navy blue attendings scrubs.

  "Stiles?"

  Derek's eyes on him caused him to break away from his inner monologue.

  "Huh?"

  "Are you listening?"

  "Sorry. You were saying?"

  "I was asking," Even through a mask, Stiles could tell that Derek was twisting his mouth in disappointment. "If Sonya told you anything that would make us believe that he has light-headedness or vertiginous."

  "Definitely light-headedness." Stiles nodded.

  "Hmm, could be simple orthostatis. Could be a million things really."

  "He could have a tumor. Something caused him to lose consciousness." Stiles wasn't sure Derek had considered the more dark probabilities.

  "It's nothing short of a miracle that he's alive, let along talking to us. Like I said, it could be a million things. Let's look around before we assume the worst." Glancing over at a nurse, Derek asked for the cordless phone, calling around until he found the room that Isaac and Scott were in, still researching past cases that could possibly help him in getting these nails out of his patient.

  "Talk to me, Lahey."

  "There's been twenty-three cases."

  "And one was a suicide." Scott said, allowing Derek to deduct that he was on speakerphone.

  "Yeah, that doesn't count. What else?"

  "Bleeding and infection were the biggest problems, but were reduced with a shorter surgery time." Scott went on.

  "Basically all the notes say get out fast and watch for bleeding."

  "So you have nothing to tell me that's going to help me extract the nails."

  Derek hung up on them, leaving Scott and Isaac to stare each other for a few beats. Not wanting to be cooped up in a room researching for another second, Scott got up, turning to Isaac before he left.

  "You coming?"

  "Dude, I don't need a chaperone."

  Scoffing, Scott left him alone as Isaac threw himself up off the desk he was sitting at. When he did, he disrupted the things of the nurse who had claimed this room before them, scatting her various papers and magazines on the floor. And that's when he saw it. The magazine had fallen to a certain page when it reached the floor, one that showcased someone he had been feuding with pretty much all day.

  "My, my." Isaac laughed as he picked up the magazine and looked over the spread, his eyes falling on a nearby coping machine. "Welcome to Seattle Grace, Dr. Billie Wilds."

 

  Lydia was charting in Nurse Fallon's chart as she walked back to the nurse's station. She had just come from the gallery overlooking Stiles' surgery with the guys who had nails in his head. She would be lying if she said she wasn't jealous of the case that Stiles was assigned to, but she was still excited to a least assist Dr. Hale, or Uncle Hale as Isaac hold told her Ramsey was referring to him from now on, with the inevitably Whipple. She found a seat at the nurse's station, continuing to right in some last minute details about Nurse Tallon's surgery when a disturbance at the OR board stirred her attention as a nurse wiped away Stiles' surgery, having apparently finished.

  "What time is Hale's Whipple scheduled?" Lydia asked her out of pure curiosity.

  An answer was given in the action of a furrowed brow. "Neither Dr. Hales have a Whipple scheduled."

  "What?"

  She found Peter down a nearby hallway, talking to a fellow attending like he didn't have a care in the world. Normally, Lydia would have felt bad for interrupting but her anger was breaking down her usual way of interacting with her superiors.

  "You've seen Nurse Fallon's labs, right?"

  Peter told his friend goodbye before he looked down at Lydia. "I've reviewed them, yes."

  "So you're aware that the stent doesn't seem to be helping her jaundice. She's getting worse."

  "I might be busy, but I'm up to date on my patient, Martin."

  "I'm sorry, sir. I can schedule the Whipple for you if you're too busy."

  "I want to look at her overnight labs before we rush her into surgery. And her biopsy results. "You're on call right?"

  Lydia assured him that she was. "Yes."

  "Good." he nodded. "Stay close to her. We're definitely going to do something, Martin. Have patience."

  "So that Whipple is happening, right?"

  "Again, we have to do something if she hasn't changed by the morning."

  "Good. Thank you, Dr. Hale.

  Lydia left, satisfied that she was going to be performing what she was sure the first of very many amazing surgeries starting tomorrow morning.

 

  "We miss you, Lisa!"

  "When you get better, you have to talk to the Chief about coming back."

  "This place isn't that same without your charm!"

  Lisa laughed and felt incredibly humbled at the amount of support she was receiving upon being back here at Seattle Grace from her fellow former nurses and the doctors she had assisted over the years. As they left, wishing her good luck and goodnight, she looked up to see a young doctor standing in the door way. One who wore a similar face to one she had a lot of memories with.

  "I was wondering if I'd get the pleasure of seeing you." she smiled. "You look just like your father."

  "Word travels fast around here about you." Stiles gave her a weak smile, nodding. "You were his scrub nurse?

  "Lisa Tallon. Please, come in."

  Stiles, feeling a little bit awkward at the encounter, made his way into the room. He wasn't used to people knowing his father, not people nowadays. Especially when no one knew about his current condition.

  "I just wanted to stop by, my father sends his regards."

  "I doubt that."

  "I'm sorry."

  Lisa shook her head. "I haven't heard from your father in years, almost a decade. I find it hard to believe that he has time for former underlings now that he's already surpassed infamy. What's he up to these days anyways?"

  "Traveling." Technically, it wasn't a lie. He was traveling. Except it was all taking place within his mind.

  "Practicing?"

  "Not so much anymore."

  "I don't believe that either." She admitted. "He was as dedicated to cutting as your mother was."

  "You knew my mother too?"

  "I'm sorry about her passing." Lisa nodded. "What's it been, four years now?"

  "Almost five." Stiles felt the stabs of sorrow creating a lump in his throat. "It was right before I got accepted into medical school."

  "Well, she's proud of you. She'd have to be, you following in her and Asher's footsteps."

  Unable to take the emotions that came with talking about his parents, Stiles just cleared his throat. "Well, I just wanted to stop by and say good luck."

  "Thanks again. Nice meeting you."

  "You too. Goodnight."

  Stiles left in a hurry, not wanting to meet someone who had a different insight on the inner details of the part of his life that he worked so hard to hide.

 

  "Do you remember the house?"

  He brought the photo album he had been looking yesterday with him when he stopped to see his father at the home on the way to work the next morning. He was showing his father a picture just outside the house that Stiles currently called home. In the picture, his father and his mother were smiling wildly at the camera wit their younger faces. The house was the one his mother's parents had raised her in. After he graduated, he had bought it back as a surprise, something she had been eternally grateful for. Stiles even recalled it being the best present she ever received, save that for Stiles. Which he guessed all mother's had to say, but still.

  "This is the house you bought after I graduated from high school. Remember?"

  "Who's that?"

  "That's Mom. You're wife, Claudia. You remember her don't you?"

  "Claudia." he said her name like it was a foreign language. "A girl named Claudia transferred into my class the other day."

  Stiles sighed. That was back when they were in med school together. His father definitely wasn't all there today.

  "I saw Lisa Tallon yesterday at the hospital. She was asking about you." He didn't know why he was bothering with mentioning it. His dad couldn't even recognize his wife and his son this morning, let along a co-worker that probably hadn't meant much to him to begin with.

  "Lisa!" At that moment, his entire face transformed. His smile was as illuminated as the morning sky just outside the window they sat near in the day room of the home. The morning sun glided across the glass and further brightened up his father's face. "How is she? Is she still a scrub nurse? I always like her and her dry humor."

  Stiles stared in disbelief at his father's selective memory, still trying to come to terms with Alzheimer's and how it worked, something he was finding very hard to try and deal with while also juggling his promising surgical career.

 

  "I reminded you before you left!"

  "I forgot!"

  "No, you're being totally passive-aggressive and you know it. I have a vagina. Get over it."

  Allison hung up, ending her irate yelling at Isaac through the phone. Being the "man" that he was, he had forgotten the one thing that she had asked him to get, which was tampons. She understood that she was living with two men, but Isaac was being a total ass and completely inconsiderate to her needs as a young woman. But, she let go of her anger as she made her way to work. She already had her patient messing with her as far as whether or not she was competent doctor and she didn't need Isaac adding fuel to her emotional fire.

  When she got to Seattle Grace and made her way to the elevator, she had to holler at someone to save it from leaving with her, making it just in time to slid right in. They were all staring at her, which wasn't helping her already agitated nerves.

  "What?"

  No one answered her. She heard a snicker from someone in the back, so when she yelled, "What?" and was once again met with silence, she decided that she had more important things to worry about than a room full of fellow interns who's first names she didn't even know.

 

  A lot of noise was heard from the interns' locker room even before Scott made it there. He even saw a couple people exiting the room and grabbing people close by, telling them they had to see what was going on. It must have been something a spectacle to warrant that kind of attention from a group of interns that were probably a little behind on getting ready for work like he was. Scott got to the locker room, and instantly his eyes grew in horror. His terror intensified when he turned around to leave the locker room only to see Allison rapidly approaching the room.

  "Allison, don't."

  "Don't what?" She said, her voice void of it's usual perkiness. "Please just let me in." He blocked her way some more, having to literally push him out of way to see what all the uproar was about.

  Her eyes were assaulted with copies and copies of her own face. Someone had taken the spread from her Billie Wilds magazine and scanned them into the copy machine, blowing up the picture five times it's size inside the binding of the lingerie mag. She was met with a massive group of other interns who laughed and awed in her direction when she noticed Isaac standing on top of one of the many benches that they could use to help them change. He quieted down the crowd and pulled out one of the magazines that he had been hiding behind his back, revealing it to her with a sly and disgusting smirk on his face.

  "Everyone, we have Billie Wilds in our locker room to perform our very own photoshoot." More shouts were aroused by his words, causing Allison to slowly walk inside of the room instead of just hovering in the doorway. He spoke a little softer, speaking to Allison herself. "I guess they had to airbrush that tattoo out."

  "You want to see that tattoo up close?" She threw down her jacket that she had been carrying, her eyes fully strained as she kept her eyes on Isaac. "Does everyone want to see what Isaac is talking about?" She ripped off her shirt, exposing the tribal tattoo that she had wrapping around the frame of her stomach on the side. "Take a look at that tattoo up close and personal, everyone!" Allison was already in her bra, but she wasn't backing down as the squad of interns remained silent and didn't dare to move. Unbuttoning her pants, she worked her way to get those off too. "That's better right? Everyone can see that Billie Wilds body in real life. So much better isn't it!?" Standing in nothing but her bra and underwear, Allison whipped her hair around to give that tousled affect that men seemed to love so much. "Everyone gather around and check out the ass that but Allison Argent through med school."

  "I'll take them down." Scott said softly.

  "No, don't bother." Allison laughed, locking eyes with Isaac. "I'm not ashamed anymore." she swore to the entire room of people. "Have you had enough or should I keep stripping down, because I have a few more, very interesting tattoos." She was so glad that Isaac looked disgusted with himself, because there was no way in hell that she was going to stop until everyone in the room took in the sight that she did as she stepped closer to him. "You can stare at my body all you want. You can even call me Dr. Model if you want. But just remember while you're still dealing with mounds and mounds of student loans, I'm free of debt."

  Grabbing her clothes off of the floor, Allison stormed off to the bathroom to get dressed in peace once she pushed people out of her way to get to her scrubs, knowing that nobody would ever breathe the name Billie Wilds in Seattle Grace Hospital ever again.

 

  Derek casually walked into George's room, seeing that he and his wife Sonya were laughing with each other life he hadn't just had a hoard of nails in his head yesterday. They smiled upon seeing him.

  "George, tell him what color my dress is."

  "Even if I couldn't see, it'd be red." George beamed. "It's her favorite color."

  "It's your favorite color to see me in." She playfully swatted at him.

  "Glad to see your spirits haven't suffered." He wrote down a couple things in George's chart. "Everything's looking good, but I've scheduled and MRI this morning to check on George's residual bleeding. Alright?"

  "Thank you again, Dr. Hale." Sonya pleaded, coming over to him and grasping his hands lovingly.

  "Thank me when you're walking out of here." he smiled back, leaving his patients for others as he reminded himself to never be too optimistic when it came to being even an outstanding surgeon like himself.

 

  Barging into Mr. McDermott's room, Allison walked over to him and threw down one of the copies of her Billie Wilds spread down on his bedside table, stirring him from a little cat nap he thought he would be free from disruption during.

  "This? This is who I was. It doesn't define who I am now. I'm a doctor. And I can't be the best doctor that I can with you being such a chauvinist, so get the hell over it so I can do my damn job."

  He didn't say anything at first. He finally gave her a sigh, looking at her with glossy, ashamed eyed. "I'm sure you're just as competent as any other doctor at this hospital."

  "Then what the hell is your problem?"

  "What do you want me to say? That I used to have wild fantasies about you, about the woman in this picture, whoever she? Is that what you want to hear? Do you have any idea what is happening to me today? I have cancer, where no man ever wants to have cancer. Your superiors, your fellow doctors, are going to expose me to their friends and effectively neuter me, cutting out my prostate. So, I'm sorry if it's hindering you from doing your job but is it so ludicrous that I don't want that woman to see me become less of a man?" 

Allison didn't have a response, she just looked on in sympathy at the patient that she had misjudged, much like the interns had done to her just minutes ago.

 

  "You've already seen her overnight labs?"

  Peter was beginning to think that Lydia Martin was going to be the troubled intern of Ramsey's bunch. She was overly confident in her abilities, overly eager to cut. But he couldn't deny that she had an amazing drive and determination.

  "Yes, Martin. I saw them. They're not good."

  "Not good? They suck. She's completely jaundiced. She's circling the drain and we're aren't doing anything! You're acting like the only reason she came here was to die." Lydia, when Peter didn't respond, finally came to the conclusion that she was right. They had brought Lisa Tallon, beloved scrub nurse of so many years to Seattle Grace Hospital, to die in the place she considered her home. "Oh my God."

 "Good to see something good came out of this experience, Dr. Martin."

  "You're joking, right?"

  "Hardly." He got up from his seat, clasping her on the shoulder. "You just learned that performing surgery isn't the only way to be a good doctor."

 

  Stiles walked with Derek, fast paced leaps that he worked hard to keep up with, as they made their way to George's room.

  "Derek, slow down."

  "We're running out of time, Stiles. They have to know now."

  "Know what?"

  They turned around to see Sonya, apparently making her way back to the room as well, but instead overheard their hurried conversation.

  "Sonya, we should talk in George's room."

  "No, tell me what's going on now."

  "Sonya-"

  "Now!"

  Derek didn't like it, but he caved and decided to tell her the results of the MRI. George had a tumor. A complicated one. One that was wrapped around the part of the brain that affected memory. And there was no way that Derek could get to it, without losing that portion of George's brain.

  "How long?" Neither of them spoke, causing her to reiterate. "I said how long, doctors."

 "Without the surgery? Five years. With the surgery, George's best outlook is ten years. But I'm warning you, if he gets the surgery and I remove the tumor that's encased in that part of the brain, he won't remember. Anything. His memory will start to fade at a rapid pace until there's noting left to forget." Derek sighed, realizing what he was asking of her to think over. "I know it's a hard choice, but without the surgery, he'll remember everything up until-"

  "He'll have the surgery."

  "What?"

  "I'll talk to him, but he'll agree. He'll want the surgery."

  "Sonya, do you understand what that means?" Stiles didn't even think about whether or not he was overstepping his bounds with the patients. He even forgot that Derek was there with them. Stiles knew about the pain that came with having a loved one not remember anything to where it reduced them down to half a person. "He'll be there, but he won't be George if he gets the surgery. What's the point of five more years if he can't tell you what dress your wearing or take those pictures you both love so much?"

  "If it means ten bad years for me, fine. I'll do that for him because he's done so much more for me." She started to tear up, the cost of her own words getting embedded in her emotions.

  "No, you'll regret this." Stiles issued his rebuttal. There was no way he was going to let her do this to herself. He knew the pain of it too much to let someone else willingly put themselves in the same position that he was in, watching the people he loved being taken away with him being unable to do anything about it. "He will wither away, Sonya, until there's nothing left but a man who doesn't recognize you. And that will eat away at you until you finally come the conclusion that this isn't what you really wanted. You didn't want a man who you couldn't praise or who couldn't make fun of your cooking. What you really wanted was George. And if you do this, he won't be there!"

  "Dr. Stilinski-"

  "He'll be gone and you'll have no one to blame but yourself!"

  "Dr. Stilinski! That's enough!" Derek's screams of finality were barely registering in Stiles' mind. All he saw was Sonya and the hurt look on her face as he saw the rage in her eyes.

  "But he'll still be my George," Tears streaked down her face. "Even if I'm not his Sonya anymore. I'll remind him everyday because I'll remember for the both of us! You, this surgery, no one and nothing, can take that away from us!"

  Stiles turned around, so upset at himself and the decision Sonya was trying to make that he couldn't look at her. Instead her stormed away, barely hearing Derek tell her how sorry he was for Stiles' outburst and for her and George to take all the time they needed to talk over the options together. Stiles retreated to a hallway, but for fear of realizing that Derek could find him there, he made himself disappear so that he wouldn't see the tears streaming down his face for the life of his father that was threatening to overwhelm his soul.

 

  A little while later, Stiles found himself refuge in the guise of Lisa Tallon's room. She was asleep, but it somehow comforted him in being around someone who had known his father, and his mother too, before Stiles knew them how they were now, which was almost completely gone. He sniffled, keeping his emotions from spilling forth again like the outburst with Derek and Sonya, when Lisa tossed herself awake at the sound.

  "Hey."

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'll go."

  "No, no, it's okay. Stay. It's alright." Lisa sat up in her bed, looking a lot worse than when Stiles has last really looked at her. Her eyes were pure yellow, a shade of goldenrod that they definitely weren't supposed to be.

  "I told me father about you. He remembers you well."

  "Your father would. He never forgot a thing."

  A seemingly innocent comment to most, but after Lisa finished her sentence, Stiles looked up at the ceiling as a fit of laughter overtook his body. Lisa stared on in confusion, not at all understanding what she had said to rally up such a reaction from him. Stiles just kept laughing, until he had enough composure to speak, even though bubbling hoots were laced within his words afterwards.

  "It's not funny. It's really not but-" he laughed a few short chortles again.

  Lisa thought she felt the heat of a lightbulb appearing over her head as she connected the loose ends from their previous conversation with their current, abnormal one. "What's his diagnosis?"

  Feeling safe in knowing that she wouldn't tell anyone given her condition, Stiles felt a wave of freedom as he spoke the words. "Alzheimer's. Early onset."

  "And no one else knows?"

  "No. He's in an adult care facility" Stiles shook his head, no longer finding the humor in his dad's state of mind. "I'm the only one he'll allow to see him."

  "And if I know Asher Stilinski like I'm sure I do, he made the nursing home sign a contract to that effect."

  Despite the topic, Stiles showed her a small smile. "You knew my father well."

  "Too well." Lisa said. "What a bastard."

  The dead-pan look on her face set Stiles off his sanity again, both of them laughing at the circumstances because it was all either of them could do with the way that life was working against both of their lives.

 

  "I think it's sweet. This place was like a home to her." Allison said to Lydia, who was fuming about learning about the truth when it came to Lisa Tallon's reasoning for coming to Seattle Grace.

  "It's a waste of my time. Not to mention a waste of a bed. I spent the whole time thinking I was getting a surgery."

  "Don't you have any compassion?" she glared at her friend. "Wouldn't you want them to do the same for you?"

  "You don't get an opinion, Dr. Model."

  "You're hateful."

  Allison stormed away, only to hear. "I'm just messing with you!" from Lydia as she left. Stiles came up to her.

  "What are we talking about?"

  "You didn't hear about Billie Wilds?"

  "I'm sure I will. I was in Lisa Tallon's room earlier."

  "She knows your dad, right?"

  "Knew."

  Lydia's eyes widened. "What do you mean, knew?"

  "Lydia, they brought her here to pass in peace. Lisa Tallon passed away twenty minutes ago."

  Overcome with emotion as Stiles walked away, Lydia slammed her hand down on the railing of the skywalk, letting her emotions overtake her on the patient that really had gotten to her during their time together, teaching her that the most valuable lesson of all was enjoying life while you still could.

 

 Stiles found Derek later just outside of George's room when we went to apologize. Upon seeing him, Derek immediately threw up his hands for him to walk away. His hands too went up, only his gesture was that he surrendered.

  "I just want to tell them I'm sorry."

  "Well, they don't want it from you." Letting his arms fall back down to his side, Stiles sighed deeply as Derek stared him down. "What the hell happened earlier?"

  "I'm sorry, Derek, I just-"

  "You just almost got yourself fired is what you came close to accomplishing." Like it was second nature, Derek reached out and grabbed Stiles' hand, the latter too emotionally unstable to pull his hand away. "You need to tell me why you blew up on a patient for telling us what they wanted to do with their course of treatment and yelling, loudly, about how you disagree."

  That's when Stiles snatched his hand back. "They've decided to get the surgery?"

  "Stiles, it's their decision."

  "It's the wrong one, Derek!" He screamed, returning to his previous outburst level of screeching. "They have no idea what their doing!"

  "Would you keep your voice down!" Derek demanded. "And what could you possibly know about their decision."

 "I-"

  The words died right there on Stiles' tongue. It was easy telling Lisa about his father. She knew him, and he knew she would take that revelation to get grave with her. But as badly as Stiles wanted...anything from Derek, what he wanted most was to talk about what he was going through with someone who was still tethered to Earth, still hear with him so that he didn't feel like he was going through his father's diagnosis alone.

  "Stiles, you can talk to me. I know that our relationship...that shouldn't stop. Just tell me what's wrong."

  He was saying all the right things, everything that Stiles' wanted, right there. Displayed right there in front of him. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't do it to anyone, let alone do Derek.

  "I'm sorry." he shook his head. "I know I'm off the case. I'll just go to Ramsey."

  He sauntered off, hearing Derek say, "Stiles!" loud enough that it echoed in his own ears. But that just solidified that he was destined to bear this burden alone. That was his curse after what had done to his mother. And there was no prayer or repentance that Stiles could perform that would ever change that in his eyes.


	5. Screw It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interns plan a party to take Stiles' mind off of all his personal woes that becomes both everything he needed and the furthest thing from what he wanted. A patient with a towel found in their chest calls to question the merits of one of Seattle Grace's own. His place in the surgical program is put to the test when Stiles accidentally pokes a patient's heart during surgery.

  His thoughts were a blur of storming tangents when Stiles made his way toward the home that his father was staying in. Since last week, Stiles had had so much on his mind. Between his father’s normal deteriorating memory, triggered even more by the mention of his old scrub nurse that has passed away, and trying to move the patient that had decided to basically cut out all of his memories, he wasn’t having the best time right now.

  
   Scott had been spending a lot of time at the house, making sure that Stiles was alright. He appreciated the sentiment, but it made him feel like his friends didn’t think that he could handle things on his own, which wasn’t something he wanted portrayed about himself when it came to being a doctor.

  
   So when he was sitting down with one of the home’s caretaker’s, he was having a little trouble honing in on her voice instead of listening to the self-made problems brewing behind his bone structure.

  
   “Mr. Stilinski?”

  
   “Sorry.” Stiles shook his head, taking in her blue eyes and vibrantly dyed blonde hair. “You were saying?”

  
   “The lawyer has been taking care of your father’s estate through the power of attorney. But he needs to sign everything other to you while he’s lucid enough to know what he’s doing, due to the fact that he’s Alzheimer’s is advancing.”

  
   “Me? I’m sorry, it’s been a really long week. I haven’t slept in two days. I have heart surgery this morning, my first time holding a heart, so forgive me for wanting someone else, like the attorney, to be here until I can deal with this with a clear head.”

  
   “Mr. Stilinski, we’re talking about his further medical treatment, his estate, his finances. Do you really want someone else in charge of everything important? He’s your father.”

  
   The guilt that the caretaker at the home had installed in Stiles’ brain was still there a couple of hours later when he was in surgery with Peter. He was cradling the hear in his hands, drowsy from the insomnia that came with throwing himself into his work to avoid truly dealing with his issues. It shouldn’t have surprised him that he nodded off for a split second. He jumped a little as he regained full consciousness, looking up to see the cutting of Peter’s eyes in his direction.

  
   “What’s going on, Stilinski?”

  
   “Nothing, sorry. My hand slipped.”

  
   “It’s alright, I’m finished.” Peter removed an instrument from the patient’s body cavity. “Very gently, let go of Mrs. Valentine’s heart. Alright everyone, let’s get her off bypass and warm her up.”

  
   As instructed, Stiles let go of the patient’s heart with the gentlest touch he possessed. Her vitals were fine, they were in the process of taking her off of bypass so they could close her up and get her to recovery. But Stiles happened to look down at his gloves, thinking that he was going to end up on the table next.

  
   Because right at the nail of his index finger was a rip in his glove. And his finger was covered in blood.

 

 

  “I wish I could hold a heart.”

  
   Scott was feeling very envious of the heart surgery Stiles’ was currently in, but he was glad that he was focusing on his work instead of moping around the hospital, and the house, really. He was at the nurse’s station, having a free moment to himself, talking to Lydia.

  
   “Anyone can hold a heart, McCall. Get over it.”

  
   “Someone’s just mad that Hale didn’t chose them.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  
   Eyeing Scott, Allison hurried over to them, slamming down her chart on the counter of the nurse’s station. “Chips and ice, Scott. We need more.”

  
   “Are you still adamant about this party?” Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

  
   “Who else did you invite, Allison? We haven’t even cleared this party with Stiles yet.”

  
   “Just some people from psych and peds.”

  
   A gasp flew from Lydia’s mouth. “Are you serious? You invited mental cases and preschoolers to this thing?” She sighed. “This party is officially dead.”

  
   Scott eyed both of them evenly. “I think everyone here is forgetting the fact that Stiles doesn’t know about the party yet.”

  
   “It’s a party for Stiles, Scott. He doesn’t necessarily have to know.”

  
   “Yeah, if anyone one of us needs a little break from work in the form of letting loose and getting drunk, It’s Stiles.” Lydia nodded.

  
   “I’m just saying, if we’re going to throw a party at Stiles’ house, don’t you think he should at least be warned about it?”

  
   “It’s our house too, sort of. Have you never heard of a surprise before?”

  
   Mumbling about a patient to himself, Isaac approached the nurse’s station like it was second nature. He eyed his friends and just scoffed. “So, I hear there’s a party going on at the house tonight, the one night I’m on call all night.”

  
   “First I’ve heard of it.” Allison held her head up high, walking away from him with great speed.

  
   “Yeah, what party?”

  
   Scott left in a huff then too, clearly supporting the same feelings that Isaac had towards him. Isaac grunted then, throwing up his hands in annoyance as he locked eyes with the redhead intern next to him.

  
   “Is this because of the Billie Wilds thing? I apologized!”

  
   “You seriously thought you could say you’re sorry? Seriously?”

  
   Lydia laughed at him, grabbing her patient’s chart and shaking her head at him, thinking that he better be glad that it wasn’t her that he had done that too, because then it’d be his heart that she would have had his hands on.

 

 

  Back in the OR, Stiles was freaking out over his glove. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if it weren’t for the fact that his patient began to flatline.

  
   “What’s her temp?” Peter beckoned the answer from anyone available in the room.

  
   “96, Doctor.”

  
   “Why isn’t she doing this on her own? She should be fine coming off of bypass. Come through, Mrs. Valentine. Give me the paddles. Ten joules. Clear.” Peter used the paddles and quickly pressed them on either side of the patient’s heart. But there wasn’t a change. “Twenty joules.”

  
   Finally, Mrs. Valentine’s heart beat was back, beating normally enough for Peter to let out a sigh of contentment.

  
   “There we are, Mrs. Valentine. Welcome back.” Peter turned to Stiles just as he was about to tell his attending about what had happened earlier with his glove. “Keep a close eye on her, since he heart was so reluctant.”

  
   Everyone in the room started to wind down from the stress and intensity of the surgery, all while Stiles turned away from everyone’s eyes to look back down at his torn glove, wondering if he could have possibly done anything that could have caused Mrs. Valentine’s heart to require the paddles to restart it’s beating.

 

 

  As if feeling guilt for not dealing with his father’s financial future earlier that morning, the weight of not telling Peter about the popping of his glove crushed his lungs like cinderblocks glued to his chest. He wanted to run back the patient’s room and confess to her husband, or to Peter, but Mrs. Valentine was fine. Her vitals were back to normal. Her readouts were right where they were supposed to be. So, he decided it was pointless to cause a scene, especially getting the husband worked up for no reason if there wasn’t any indication that she was affected by his actions, and came to the conclusion to keep it to himself.

  
   “I heard you did a cabbage.”

  
   Derek’s sudden appearance and boisterous dialogue caused Stiles to trip on his own two feet.

  
   “Oh, hey. And, uh, yeah, I did.”

  
   “You don’t sound like someone who just held their first heart.”

  
   “No, it was great.” Stiles said, but his tone was betraying his true feelings. “Everything I ever imagined.”

  
   “Stiles,” Derek grabbed at his arm, enough to turn the intern towards him but not enough that Stiles allowed him to actually make contact with his skin. “Are you going to tell me about last week? You’ve been drowning yourself in work and-”

  
   “I had a great time holding a heart for the first time, Dr. Hale. Thank you.”

  
   The elevator at the end of the hall opened, revealing an oblivious Scott standing inside. Stiles stepped inside quickly, wishing that Derek would just let him be for right now but he followed him. Scott regarded Stiles quickly before he realized that something had been going on between Derek and Stiles just seconds before. They both thought that the attending was going to step inside of the elevator, but he stopped a few feet away, his eyes never leaving Stiles.

  
   “I’ll see you around then?”

  
   Stiles raised his head, barely a response at all. “Bye.”

  
   The metal doors swung to a close, with the last view of a concerned Derek fading. Stiles felt his friend’s eyes on his as soon as they were alone in the elevator, but before he opened his mouth to speak, Stiles let out a huge sigh and shook his head.

  
   “Please, don’t. Let’s just be those kind of friends that don’t have to talk about everything and whatever, okay? Just this once, let’s just…not.”

  
   Scott’s mouth fell open on instinct, but he closed it quickly, instead just deciding to place a comforting hand on Stiles’ shoulder as he watched the glimmering eyes of his best friend, assuming that his emotions were threatening to overtake his much needed calm façade.

 

 

  “Tell me what you see, Scott?”

  
   He was glad to be assisting Dr. Ramsey for once. She seemed to be in the best mood that she had ever been in, or at least the best mood that he had ever witnessed her in. And they were looking at the x-rays of a patient that had come in not too long ago, complaining about having trouble breathing.

  
   “Her lungs are clouded with bullae,” he answered with slick confidence. “Hyper inflated. God, they’re diminished severely. No wonder she’s can’t breathe well.”

  
   “And what’s your proposed course of action?”

  
   “Bullectomy. Remove the bullae and reduce the pressure.”

  
   “Good, McCall.”

  
   Both Ramsey and Scott turned to see Chief Deaton walk into the room, clearing already aware of their patient’s current situation.

  
   “Says she came to this hospital after having an operation back in California. Mrs. Joosten has been through this before. Let’s not give her the no smoking lecture.”

  
   Deaton left the room, leaving Scott to ogle at the patient’s x-rays. He turned to Ramsey. “Do you think if someone put these in a pack of cigarettes that people would think about quitting?”

  
   “She did.” Ramsey stated. “Five years ago.”

  
   “Then why are her lungs so damaged?”

  
   “That’s what we’re going to find out, McCall. Go transport the patient to the OR.”

 

 

  Lydia, obsessed over getting her charts immaculate as she could stand to get them, was over standing in front of the nurse’s station. She wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings, so when someone placed a cup of coffee next to her, she had to swivel her head around until she saw Peter sipping on an identical cup of java, his eyes glossing over when he looked into her own.

  
   “Um-”

  
   “It’s just coffee.”

  
   “But-”

  
   “Accept the coffee, Dr. Martin.” Peter smiled at her. “It’s just coffee.”

  
   Peter had a twinkle in his eye when he left her there, bringing a smile to her lips when she thought about the idea that her boss might have a little crush on her. And she was all for it, especially if it helped her get more time in cardio.

 

 

  Scott was surprised when the Chief decided to scrub in on his surgery with Ramsey. But any chance to learn from someone has renowned as Alan Deaton wasn’t stirring any complaints from him.

  
   “We’re going to be doing a spaghetti procedure,” Ramsey said to Scott as the Chief operated on Mrs. Joosten. “We deflate and cut the bullae to facilitate gentle manipulation of Mrs. Joosten’s lungs.”

  
   “Dr. Ramsey, do you see this?”

  
   Ramsey stepped away from her intern and closer to where her mentor was hovering over their patient. “Yep. She needs to be opened up more.”

  
   “I’m taking out the scope. Do the honors?”

  
   “Gladly, Sir.” Ramsey beckoned a scrub nurse. “Ten blade.”

  
   Deaton completed the action of removing the scope from Mrs. Joosten, Scott watching with earnest as Ramsey sliced further down her chest to open up the incision so they could see what exactly was causing the scope to become clouded.

  
   “Rib spreader.” Deaton asked until he was handed his desire instrument. “Suction.”

  
   “Hold on, I see something.” Ramsey nodded. “Hand me the scope.”

  
   With wide, unbelieving eyes, Scott watched as they pulled something out of Mrs. Joosten that definitely wasn’t part of the standard anatomy of humans. It looks like a very saturated and slightly worn…

  
   “Is that a towel?”

  
   Ramsey sighed. “Yes. Yes, it is a towel.”

  
   “But how did it end up in her chest?”

  
   “I’m guessing from her surgery back in California.” Deaton shook his head.”

  
   Ramsey handed the scope back to the scrub nurse, locking eyes with the Chief before she shook her head vigorously. “Something stupid this way comes.”

  
   A few minutes later, the Chief was leading Scott and Ramsey down one of the halls of the hospital. And because she had been searching for Ramsey when they got out of surgery, Lydia had heard about what had happened and was tailing them too.

  
   “A towel?!” she cried again as they made their way down the long hallway.

  
   “This isn’t good.” Deaton shook his head.

  
   “She kept complaining about pressure on her chest and no one believed her.” Scott said to his friend. “She kept telling me before the surgery that no one would take her seriously about it.”

  
   “This isn’t good for the patient, not for the hospital.” Deaton huffed heavily in front of them. “Just not good.”

  
   “I’ll handle the patient, Sir.” Ramsey said just before he disappeared from their view. “Alright, Lydia, call the hospital Mrs. Joosten was at before. Find out everything you can about her initial surgery. Every scrub nurse in attendance, who was operating, who closed. Everything. Scott, stay with her and keep her calm.”

  
   Scott was fine with everything his resident was telling him, but he couldn’t help but think of his later commitments that he still had yet to tell Stiles about. “Oh, uh, right. Do you think this is going to take…I’m supposed to get off at six?”

  
   She gave him a glare. “Do I have an invitation?”

  
   “Sorry?”

  
   “Am I invited to the party you’re throwing?”

  
   “You know about the party?” Scott was a little surprised. He hadn’t heard anyone else talking about it, but she should have realized that Ramsey knew everything. “I mean, yeah, of course, but-”

  
   “Good.” Ramsey smiled, leaving them just outside of the stairwell. Scott looked at Lydia, who was wearing a bright gaze of disdain for him.

  
   “She’s our boss, what did you want me to say?”

  
   “Stiles is going to kill you.”

  
   Lydia stormed off. And Scott really did wonder what would happen to them when Stiles found out about the party they were trying to get going at his own house while still trying to keep it a secret.

 

 

  “This is important. If you aren’t willing to find the file, then get me someone on the phone who isn’t completely prepared to lose their job.”

  
   Lydia didn’t have time to wait. Ramsey was expecting her to find answers on why Mrs. Joosten had a towel inside of her. Not to mention that she was missing out on potential surgeries while she was hunting down the information. And now she was dealing with an intern that didn’t think it was important to find the answers she needed. Which meant they obviously didn’t know Lydia Martin.

  
   “Yes, I’m still here.” They told her exactly who was in the room, what the procedure was, but they didn’t tell her the attending overseeing the operation. “Who was the attending?” When they finally told her, her heart dropped. “Oh…okay, thank you. Thanks so much.”

  
   She asked them to fax over copies of the file before hanging up and ran to find Dr. Ramsey. She didn’t find her until the copies had been sent over, showing her the details of Mrs. Joosten’s previous surgery.

  
   “What do we do?”

  
   Ramsey glanced over the information again before giving Lydia an answer. “You, aren’t going to do or say anything while we deal with this.” A glare followed her words. “I’m serious, Lydia. Not a word.”

  
   “I understand.”

  
   She watched Ramsey recede from her vision, all while wondering how she was going to keep it a secret from the one person she was just starting to feel like opening up to.

 

 

  Scrutinizing every detail of his patient’s case, Stiles was trying to absorb the information into his brain while he kept all his true feelings at bay. He was looking for an answer to why Mrs. Valentine’s heart didn’t respond to coming off of bypass the way it should have when he was in surgery with Peter earlier. He kept flipping back and forth between the pages when he noticed Derek coming over to him.

  
   “Hey,” he said with a smile.

  
   “Hey.” Stiles responded, not taking his eyes off of the chart.

  
   “Stiles,” Just the uttering of his name was enough to get his attention, staring back into Derek’s beautiful eyes. “Are you okay? Because you seem like you’re not okay.”

  
   “I’m fine.” He lied. “Just a little…the cabbage took its toll, I guess.”

  
   “Well, let me make it better. Go to dinner with me tonight.”

  
   “You are relentless, you know that?” Stiles laughed. “Besides, I can’t.” He gestured toward the chart he was still obsessing over.

  
   “That’s an excuse.” Then, weirdly, he saw Derek raise his head in a way that made him think that the older man had found the real reason that he had declined dinner with him. “It’s   because of the party, right? You can’t make dinner because of the party.”

  
   He must have heard him incorrectly. Stiles would have almost bet money that Derek had just said something about a party.

  
   “Party?”

  
   “Thanks for keeping me off the guest list, by the way. I would have liked to have seen your house again, since I didn’t get to see that much of it the last time I was there.” Derek smiled, the set of his features suggestive. “But do think about dinner. Food always helps.”

  
   He walked away from him then, questions swirling around him like the air encompassing his lungs.

  
   “What party?”

  
   The loud, sharp bleating of his pager stopped the search for more answers to what Derek was talking about. It was for Mrs. Valentine. Fear overtook his every thought then as he ran for his patient’s room, hoping that she was okay.

  
   But she wasn’t. When he got there, the machines were ringing and telling him that she definitely wasn’t okay.

  
   Stiles looked at the nurse. “What happened?”

  
   “What’s wrong with my wife?” Mr. Valentine pleaded for someone to finally tell him what was going on. But Stiles waved at another nurse around them, cutting off any responses from them.

  
   “Get him out of here.”

  
   They went to do as he requested, Stiles looking back to the nurse and nodding at him. “Keep applying pressure.”

  
   Peter showed up then, answering the page the nurses had sent him as well, pulling off his stethoscope to listen to Mrs. Valentine’s heart. “What the hell happened?”

  
   “No histamine or allergic anaphylactic responses.” He told his attending, glad that he had memorized his patient’s chart so well.

  
   “Last counts?”

  
   “PTT, BT, INR platelet counts were all stable.” Stiles was scrambling, his prior guilt settled against his chest and making it hard to breathe. He had worked so hard to keep from feeling anything about his personal life by distracting himself with his work life. And now he wasn’t even doing that correctly. “Even her HNH were stable.”

  
   “Then what the hell went wrong? Let’s move.”

  
   Peter was proposing they rush her into emergency surgery to figure out what went wrong. People around them were helping Mrs. Valentine get ready for transport, the act of removing her husband completely forgotten at this point. Stiles looked at Mr. Valentine and then back at his wife, sighing to himself as he realized that he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

  
   “I popped a glove!”

  
   Dr. Hale spun around like he had just been shot. “What?”

  
   “When I was holding her heart in surgery. I think I may have gotten her heart when I popped my glove with my fingernail.”

  
   “Come on.” Peter told everyone else. “Let’s get her into surgery.”

  
   As he ran to keep up, he saw the angered, irate look on Mr. Valentine’s face, Stiles wondering for just how much longer he was going to have a career in surgery when Mr. Valentine decided to press charges.

  
   When they got to surgery, Stiles was restrained to overlooking, staying as far away as possible after what had just happened. And he couldn’t blame Peter for doing so. He did this. And the responsibility was eating him alive.

  
   “You had so many chances to speak up.” Peter was scalding him, but there was no way that he could get to the level of hatred that Stiles was repeating to himself inside of his head. “So many opportunities before I closed to tell me about what happened.”

  
   “I’m sorry.”

  
   “Look at this. Come here, look.” Slowly, Stiles got closer to Mrs. Valentine and looked at her chest. There was a huge tear across her heart. “That’s a lot more than a fingernail for such a massive wall rupture.” Peter shook his head. “Her ventricular wall is extremely weak.”

  
   Stiles thought that he was through with most of the heat from what he had done and decided to keep to himself, but Deaton rushed into the OR then, crossing his arms as he eyed Stiles and Peter equally.

  
   “I just had a very intense conversation with Mr. Valentine.” He started to raise his voice. “Tomorrow morning the both of you are meeting with me and legal and I better hear a damn good explanation about what happened to his wife.” He shook his head, muttering to himself as he left the OR. “People leaving towels in patients, poking holes in hearts…”

  
   “You are going to apologize until you run out of breath.” Peter spoke up again, furthering the aching of misery that pounding against Stiles’ temples. “Review the history. Go back and talk to the husband. It looks like your position in this program is up for discussion, Dr. Stilinski.”

 

 

  Back in the tunnels, Scott and Lydia were using their down time to grab what food they could, which turned out to be several bags of Cheetos and several cups of coffee. Allison came down with a banana and a cup of pudding in her hand, biting into the fruit before flopping down on the discarded gurneys beside her friends.

  
   “Okay, so I just got off the phone and the beer is coming at seven and some of the floor nurses are bringing wine.”

  
   “You invited nurses, too?” Lydia scoffed. “You’re the worst bouncer ever.”

  
   “Have you talked about it with Stiles yet?” Scott pondered.”

  
   “How many times do I have to tell you, it’s fine. Stiles is going to be so happy to be able to let loose that he’ll forget that we planned a party at the house without telling him.” Allison assured his worries.

  
   “You better hope so. Because I have no problems telling him the truth, that this entire party thing was your idea.”

  
   “Best idea ever. And he’ll be fine, relax.”

  
   “I’m just saying.” Scott stood up. “If Stiles is pissed about a bunch of geeks in scrubs being in his house and he has no idea why, I’m not doing the surgery you’ll probably need after he gets his hands on you.”

 

 

  Stile’s phone rang, something he normally would have ignored but it kept him from dwelling on the fact that he had a possibly career altering meeting with the Chief of Surgery in the morning about the incident with Mrs. Valentine. He thanked the heavens that he was alone on the skywalk when he pressed the phone to his ear.

  
   It was nursing home, calling about his father and the signing of his belongings. Stiles didn’t want to deal with it any more than he wanted to deal with the makeshift litigation he was attending with Peter in the morning. But now, with his head full of worrying about whether he was going to have a job at the end of the week, he welcomed the conversation as they talked about when he could make it down there to sign everything.

  
   “Just make sure the notary can be there at six-thirty also. Right, and the home’s physician to assess his mental competency is available then too. Yes, I can bring a check.” Stiles sighed at the comment. “I’ll be there. Six-thirty.”

  
   Just like he always seemed to do, Derek walked across the skywalk as he hung up, approaching him with ease.

  
   “I heard. Are you alright?”

  
   “Heard what?”

  
   Derek leaned on the railing and stared down at Stiles. “About the heart thing. You can talk about it, with me, if it helps.”

  
   “What I’d liked to know is why it’s so hard being an adult.” Stiles started to walk away then, looking back over his shoulder to add, “And is there a way to make it stop?” before exiting the skywalk and sauntering back inside the hive of the hospital while everything he had to deal with weighed on his mind like a pallet of anvils waiting for his bones to crush under the pressure.

  
   Stiles found Mr. Valentine outside of the hospital, talking on the phone heatedly with what sounded like a lawyer. A sigh squeezing out between his lips, Stiles walked over to him just as he was rushing off of the phone, likely seeing him and wanting to focus on what obscenities to blare his way.

  
   “I’m not talking to you.” Mr. Valentine lamented. “My lawyer is advising against it.”

  
   “I understand that you’re angry, Mr. Valentine, and you have every right to be. But we need more information on your wife. Her heart’s walls were abnormally thin-”

  
   “How dare you blame this on my wife, I heard you!” He wagged his finger in Stiles’ face. “You told me what happened yourself, right there before you took her back into surgery.”

  
   “Mr. Valentine-”

  
   “She lost a hundred pounds last year, she was in the best shape of her life before this. So don’t you stand there and blame her for this when we both know you’re at fault.”

  
   “We can’t treat her until you tell me-”

  
   “This conversation is over.”

  
   Mr. Valentine stomped off then and Stiles was ready to throw up his hands in defeat at the very thought of going back and trying to pry answers out of his patient’s already agitated husband. So he decided to talk to Ramsey about letting him go ahead and leave, so he could run by the nursing home before he headed home to deal with his issues by lying in bed all night.

 

 

  Scott walked up to Allison as she was standing over the nurse’s station with Lydia. He came up to her, tired after explaining everything to his patient about the whole towel thing, which she was rightfully distraught about. But he always answered his pages, so he stood next to Allison with an inquisitive nature against his normally casual features.

  
   “Got your page. What’s up?”

  
   “Can you get to the house and sign for the beer? I have to discharge Hale’s patient and I’m going to be a while.”

  
   “I can go home and sign for it.”

  
   Isaac popped up without a sound, causing all three of them to just look at him like he shouldn’t have been there. None of them had really forgiven him for what he had done to Allison, so it was strange to see him hanging around them, really, at all.

  
   “Will you guys stop freezing me out?”

  
   “Will you deliver a sincere apology?” Allison stared him down, but feeling like it was useless, so she looked at Scott and Lydia. “Anyway, where’s Stiles? I’m just going to tell him about the party since I’m obviously not going to be the first one there.”

  
   “He left.”

  
   Nostrils flared, Allison looked at Lydia like she hoped she was lying to her. “What, he left already?”

  
   “He mentioned something about an errand.” Lydia got up from her chair, smiling mischievously at her. “I’ll bring booze to your funeral.”

  
   “When Stiles does kill you, please let him know that I had nothing to do with this party.” Scott raised his voice, walking away in a blur of motion.

  
   “You can go away now, Isaac. Don’t you have magazines to search through?”

  
   Allison felt a hand on her arm when she went to leave, spinning her around to face the man she least wanted to share dialogue with.

  
   “Look, I get that I’m an asshole for what I did, okay? I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry. I just want things to go back to before I was such a moron. We can switch room. You can have it. I just don’t want to be an outcast anymore.”

  
   “Are you serious about the room?”

  
   “Take it! I’m really sorry, Allison. Please just tell me what I have to do to get you to forgive me for being such an asshat.”

  
   She thought about it for a minute, thinking about the patient that she still had to deal with for Derek. Plus, the fact that Isaac was willing to, finally, give her the bigger room back at home, made her a little more inclined to, possibly, think about forgiving him.

  
   “You can start with helping me discharge Hale’s patient.”

  
   “Which Hale?”

  
   “Derek.”

  
   Isaac scoffed. “I’ve been on Derek’s service all day. That guy’s a certified junkie. Trust me, you’ll need my help.”

  
   He led her away from the nurse’s station and towards the patient’s room, Allison thinking that maybe there was hope for her friendship with Isaac Lahey, as long as he understood that she held all the power over his head for how the outcome would turn out.

 

 

  As fast as he could, Stiles made his way into the nursing home to get the whole signing over of all his father’s things in his name over with. He rushed into the establishment, seeking out his father and the various people that had to be in attendance for everything to be legal and binding when one of his father’s caretaker’s came up to him.

  
   “Sorry, I’m late.” He told her. “I had trouble getting off work and there was traffic.”

  
   “It doesn’t matter.”

  
   “Is everyone not here?”

  
   “Oh, no, everyone’s here. It’s your father who isn’t.”

  
   Stiles looked over and saw that his father was sitting nearby, surrounding by the slew of people there to try and get the documents right for him, looking very irritated at their long wait and even more so at the fact that his father was giving them snarls of rage.

  
   “Dad?” He walked over to his father and crouched next to him. “Dad, it’s Stiles.”

  
   “What do all of you want from me? I have a cranial reconstruction in twenty minutes. I don’t have time for this.”

  
   “I need you to focus, Dad. We’re all here because you need to sign some papers.”

  
   “My patient’s surgery is an emergency. Why won’t you people let get to the OR?”

  
   Standing up, he sighed heavily. There was no signing happening tonight. His father was too far gone, not nearly competent enough to sign his life away to his son.

  
   “He’s can’t sign anything over to you now. We should have done this earlier in day, he’s sun-downing.”

  
   “I couldn’t be here earlier in the day!” Stiles felt the smallest bit of his grip on his emotions slip as he snapped at the caretaker and gave her enough anger from his eyes that he felt heat emanating from his dark, chestnut eyes. “I have a job, and a life. I’m here now.”

  
   “He’s not lucid, dear. You can’t do this until he’s aware enough to sign everything.”

  
   “Why did you people let him wait so long to do this?” He addressed the notary and the physician and the lawyer that were sitting next to his father. “Does the word irresponsible not register to you people at all? What the hell is wrong with all of you!?”

  
   He couldn’t take anymore. Stiles gathered himself and refused to take another look at any of them as he left the home, unable to deal with anything else after everything that had happened today, thinking that he really needed to get away from reality as he made her way back to his Jeep and to the refuge of his house.

 

 

  After hanging up on a phone call about a patient, Lydia looked up from the nurse’s room to see Ramsey talking with Peter in a nearby on-call room. The door was open, so she could see everything that was happened. Ramsey had a file in her hands, likely the file on Mrs. Joosten that she had given her.

  
   Peter grabbed the file and looked utterly devastated. Lydia watched as his heart sank as he realized what he had done, leaving a towel inside of her back at the hospital he had been working at back in California.

  
   His hands went to his face, absentmindedly scratching his chin. She wished she could comfort him, which was a weird thing for her to want to do, given her personality, but she knew how bad he must be shaming himself right now. And she would have given anything to be able to talk to him about it.

 

 

  Stiles drove up to his house, seeing a hoard of people getting out of several taxies before running up to the front of his house as it flung open loosely. His mouth dropped as he found a place to park his jeep on the side of his street.

  
   “I’m going to kill them.”

  
   Inside the house, Lydia was trying to take her mind off of Peter and his unfortunate negligence by downing tequila shots. She still wasn’t really drunk yet and was in a noshing mood, reaching for a devilled egg that someone had brought, only for a dark hand to get to it first.

  
   She looked up from her stool to see Ramsey, all dressed up in a casual party outfit, but more shockingly in full make-up, as she plopped the devilled egg into her mouth with a smile.

  
   “Sorry,” she said when she was finished swallowing her food. “Were you going to eat that?”

  
   “It’s fine.” Lydia got up from her seat, starting to feel the rush of the alcohol setting into her state of mind. In a more hushed voice, Lydia leaned over to her resident and said, “Can we talk about the towel thing?”

  
   “There’s nothing to talk about, it’s being dealt with.”

  
   “And?”

  
   Ramsey gave her a scrunched up look, like she felt like Lydia should have been satisfied with the answer she had already been given. “And you don’t have to concern yourself with anything else.”

  
   “So what’s going to happen?”

  
   “What’s going to happen is we’re not going to talk about it anymore, because your involvement in it is over.” Ramsey scoffed. “Understand? Or have you had too much liquor to get what I’m saying?”

  
   “No, I understand.” She finally nodded.”

  
   “Okay, now point me to the bourbon.”

 

 

  Unfortunately, Isaac had been right about Mr. Cross, Derek’s junkie patient. He had been treated for his pain, even though he definitely had been to multiple hospitals for his urges for dialaudid addiction. But now that they had done so, he was being discharged. And Allison was finding Mr. Cross so difficult to deal with that she was having Isaac wheel him out of his room in a wheelchair while she tried to keep him in it.

  
   “You can’t discharge me! I’m still hurting!” Mr. Cross bellowed.

  
   “You’re not getting any more drugs, Mr. Cross.” Isaac told him. “It’s time for you to be discharged.”

  
   “Please, it hurts so bad.” He attempted to get out of the wheelchair, but Allison put her hands on his shoulders, lightly pushing him back into place. “Ow!”

  
   “Mr. Cross, you’re the one being resistant.” Allison sighed. “We can’t do anything else for you.”

  
   “I just need some Demerol.” He pleaded. “Just give me a hit of Demerol!”

  
   “You have to go.”

  
   “I’m not leaving!” He screamed back at Isaac’s statement.

  
   Allison threw up her hands. “That’s it, I’m getting Psych.”

  
   “No, don’t call them!”

  
   “Stewart, stop! You’re going to fall.” Isaac tried to keep their patient in his wheelchair.

  
   But when Allison went further down the hall to find someone from Psych, Mr. Cross leapt out of his chair, struggling to walk from all the drugs he had been on that hadn’t weaned themselves out of his system yet. He tripped and fell, hitting his head hard on the floor. Allison and Isaac rushed over to see how badly he was injured.

  
   “Concussion?”

  
   Isaac knelt down on the floor to try and confirm Allison’s suspicions. He lifted up Mr. Cross’ eyes, shining his light into them. “His right pupil is blown. Page Derek. He needs a head CT.”

  
   Once they were gathered with Derek in the x-ray room, he hung up the x-rays for them to see. “What can you tell me?”

  
   “Subdural bleed.” Allison sighed.

  
   “With a midline shift.” Isaac added.

  
   “It has to be evacuated now.” He told them, eyeing Allison, considering that she was supposed to be off about an hour ago. “Is there a party you need to get to, Dr. Argent, or are you going to join us in the OR?”

  
   “Brain surgery? Are you joking?” Allison said, scoffing at the idea of leaving when she could scrub in on a neuro surgery.

  
   “That’s what I thought.” Derek smiled. “Get the patient prepped and I’ll meet you down in OR 3. Time’s important here, so let’s hurry as much as we can.”

  
   The interns flew from the x-ray room, unable to contain their excitement over the prospect of scrubbing in on a major brain operation.

 

 

  It took Stiles entirely too long to get inside of his house. The only way he could justify the copious amounts of people hanging out in front of and trying to get into his house was that his roommates had invited the entire hospital to a party at their house, something he didn’t even know was going on. And he was beyond livid.

  
   When he walked in the door, he had to intercept a lamp being thrown across the room, barely able to keep the thing from breaking when he looked at the guy who had thrown it.

  
   “Does this look like a damn football!?”

  
   Stiles found a place to set the lamp out of the way of further ruin before he started her hunt for his roommates. He found Lydia over by a huge area in the living room that was acting like a dance area, a bottle of tequila in her hand.

  
   Just as she went for another sip, Stiles yelled. “Start explaining!”

  
   She jumped so much that she spilled a little of the tequila onto the floor when her eyes connected with her friend. “Allison didn’t find you? This was her idea!”

  
   “I don’t give a fuck whose idea it was!”

  
   “We were trying to cheer you up after last week.”

  
   “Lydia, I can’t handle this!”

  
   Seeing the severity in his eyes, full of pleading hopes, Lydia finally gave him a nod. “I’ll kick everyone out!”

  
   The crowd in front of them shifted as Lydia took a sip from her tequila bottle to ready herself to bring the entire party to a stop when he noticed Scott dancing on top of a table, drunk off his ass. He spotted Stiles and his face lit up, pointing at him and laughing.

  
   “Baby, you made it!”

  
   Scott begged Stiles to come and dance with him as he stared back at his friend, Lydia just standing there wondering what to do. Stiles thought about the overwhelming amount of things that he had to deal with. His father, the patient at work. Peter being mad at him, the Chief being mad at him. Derek. Always Derek.

  
   He gave Lydia a glance in her direction before he ripped the tequila bottle out of her hand. “Screw it.” Stiles took a huge swig from the bottle and raced over to Scott, who eagerly, with cheers, helped his friend up on the table with him.

  
   Taking another huge gulp of the reposado tequila, his favorite, Stiles started dancing with Scott, who was a lot more handsy than Sober Scott. Waving his hands at Lydia, Scott cried “Lydia, come on! Dance with us!”

  
   And she didn’t need to be told twice. Once she was up on the table with them, Stiles let her have a drink of the tequila before he finished it off by downing the rest of it, allowing this secret party to carry away his worries while he danced it out with his friends a massive crowd of people from the hospital.

 

 

  Later in the night, Stiles found himself outside of his house. To say he was inebriated would have been…accurate. Overly accurate, really. He was swaying to the music playing, another bottle of tequila in his hand as he sipped on it lazily. He waved at a couple of people that told him that he was hosting an amazing party.

  
   But he didn’t really hear any of it, he just kept dancing as best he could with the amount of alcohol in him. And that’s when his eyes sharpened enough to see that Derek was at the end of the yard, leaning on his car, watching his dance.

  
   “You could get arrested for that, you know.”

  
   Smiling in a drunken stupor, Stiles just walked, more like stumbled, over to where Derek was. “I didn’t know you were coming to my party.”

  
   “Well, I had to when I found out you blew me off for a bottle of tequila,” He laughed, still amused by the sight that was Stiles walking over to him in zigzags. “Which isn’t as much fun to wake up next to, if I do say so myself.”

  
   Stiles laughed loudly as he tripped, stumbling until Derek caught his arms, holding him a little bit away from him in case he decided to throw up or something. He knew how to keep down his liquor though, so he just smiled up at him again when he noticed Derek’s hands on his arms, still supporting his weight.

  
   “Are you ever going to tell me about the heart thing? Or about last week?”

  
   “I don’t remember anything from last week,” Stiles admitted. “All I want to remember is this.”

  
   Pushing his hands away from his plaid shirt, Stiles let himself fall against the taller man’s chest as he crashed his lips against Derek’s. They kissed again and again, Derek reveling in the sensation he had been trying to recapture ever since their first night together and their little encounter in the elevator a few weeks ago.

  
   Stiles broke the kiss much sooner than either of them would have liked. “Take me for a ride in your car, Derek.”

  
   Laughing, Derek grabbed the bottle from Stiles and took a moderate drink of its contents.

  
   And it wasn’t long after that until the two of them found their way inside Derek’s care, stripping their clothes and finding a way to relive the night that they had first met, both of them giving into their desires and passionately having their ways with each other.

  
   The party began to wind down when they started to put their clothes back on. Stiles was laughing, unable to really comprehend what they had just done. He was sitting on Derek’s lap in the front seat of his car, and the attending was helping him with trying to get his plaid shirt back on.

  
   He started buttoning it, but Derek swatted his hand. “Leave it open. It makes you look even sexier.”

  
   “Derek,” Stiles laughed. “Insatiable.”

  
   “I can show you just how insatiable I am, if you’re ready for round two.”

  
   At that moment, he started to laughing, the alcohol in his system winding down as Derek’s started to really capsize. Stiles was finally at a place where he wasn’t stressed out, or feeling like he was about to have a nervous breakdown with the events overlapping within his life. But then there was a knock on the driver side window.

  
   “Move your car,” Ramsey said as she gave them both the most satanic worthy stares that either of them, even though their still under-the-influence state, had ever witnessed. “You’re blocking me in.”

  
   She retreated from them then, leaving them alone once again.

  
   “That’s not good, is it?” Derek said as Stiles climbed off of him, flopping over in the passenger’s seat.

  
   “Shit.”

 

 

  Hours later when the party was more than over and the sun was already up, Scott was feeling like his head was going to explode. He quickly found some Advil in the kitchen before grabbing the two cups of water that he had gotten. Scott stepped over the various trash and debris from the party and made it to where Stiles was lying on the floor right below the couch.

  
   “Bless you.” He said, reaching for the glass of water, accepting it gratefully and taken huge, expert sips to try and ease the inner pulsing he felt from the drinking all night that had occurred.

  
   “I feel like a landfill.” Scott grunted as he flopped on the couch next to Stiles, practically lapping up his water like a thirsty puppy who just ran outside for hours in the backyard. “When is your meeting with the Chief?”

  
   “An hour.” Stiles growled back.

  
   The front door of the house hit the wall, signifying that someone had just entered the house. They saw Allison come in, tiptoeing over forgotten beer bottles and discarded solo cups that probably still had traces of liquor in them.

  
   “Holy mother of obliteration.” She said, spotting them and heading over to them.

  
   “You missed Doctor-palooza.” Scott mentioned. “Are you just getting off?”

  
   “For a little bit. Jesus.” Allison looked around the house, seeing nothing but garbage until her eyes fell on Stiles. “You made the party, I see.”

  
   “I should probably quick your ass, you know.” Stiles admitted, grabbing his head as he took another sip of his water. “But I’m in no condition to divvy out beat downs.”

  
   “Stiles, I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you about it once I realized the gravity of it.” She took a seat next to Scott on the couch, eyeing a beer on the coffee table. “I just wanted to try and take your mind off of everything.”

  
   “And because you actually succeeded in that fact, I’ll hold off on the beating of your ass.”

  
   “Good, so some fun came of…this.” She gestured to the trash pile that was their living room floor.

  
   Stiles decided to keep it to himself just how much fun came of last night’s party.

  
   “Now that the fun is over, I can plan the demise of my career.” He sighed. “That heart wall shouldn’t have torn.”

  
   Allison picked up the beer from the coffee table. “What’s the patient’s history?”

  
   “Her husband says she was healthier than she’d ever been. She lost a hundred pounds last year.”

  
   “Wow, a hundred pounds in a year. How’s her muscle mass?” Taking a sip of the beer, Allison watched as Scott eyed her with small slits of scrutiny.

  
   “You know that isn’t mine, right?”

  
   “I was hoping it was.” She recoiled, placing the bottle back down on the table.

  
   “Muscle mass.” Stiles repeated. “It’s the muscle mass.”

 

 

  Sitting in front of the Chief of Surgery and the hospital lawyer was nerve racking, but Sitles was prepared, thanks to his talk with Allison. Peter was sitting next to him, patiently waiting for his time to speak.

  
   “Dr. Hale has been really helpful, and I’ve done a lot of research about this.” He told the Chief, looking over at the lawyer every once in a while as he spoke. “I was definitely in the wrong, I should have spoken up sooner. But I think the patient’s history plays a bigger role in this case. She still weighs 200 pounds, which is why on one thought about it, but with the amount of weight that she dropped, it doesn’t matter who you are. Technically you’re anorexic.”

  
   “So you see, when she dropped all the weight, she was losing muscle. Including heart muscle.”

  
   “That would explain why a huge tear was made from a small poke.” Deaton nodded, understanding totally. But the lawyer wasn’t quite as convinced.

  
   “It doesn’t matter because the incident wasn’t reported by Dr. Stilinski at the time of the occurrence.” Stiles went to open his mouth, but the lawyer silenced him by continuing. “It doesn’t matter how much you wish you could change it, Doctor, it happened. You put this hospital and yourself in a huge amount of liability.”

  
   “No,” Peter shook his head. “Not if the matter of the patient’s weight loss caused the problem.”

  
   “Dr. Stilinski made a huge error-”

  
   “And he reported it! He spoke up.” Peter sighed, looking at his hands in an act of self-reflection. “Five years ago, I had a patient that I had a suspicion about. I thought I didn’t check the body cavity thorough enough, but I was in a hurry, and I closed anyway. Then that patient happens to end up in this hospital,” His voice wavered in a fit of emotion as he spoke to the Chief. “And then you and Dr. Ramsey pulled a towel out of her.” Peter then locked eyes with the lawyer. “Why didn’t I mention my worries back then? Probably because I was worried about a meeting like this one possibly ending my career. I didn’t speak up in time, but Dr. Stilinski did.”

  
   He stared in awe at the way the Chief and lawyer took in Peter’s words and took them for the sincerity that they oozed. Stiles came bursting out minutes later, coming onto the skywalk to see his friends, including a no longer absent Isaac, waiting for him.

  
   But before he reached them, Derek popped in around the corner, walking next to Stiles.

  
   “How’d it go?”

  
   “I’m on probation, but I’m off the hook.” He smiled back.

  
   “Good.” Derek grinned back. “I’ll see you later.”

  
   And that was it, he turned down the hall and went back to work. It was nice to watch Derek walk away instead of Stiles storming off after rejecting Derek over and over again. He had to admit, it was a sight he could get really comfortable with.

  
   “So what happened?”

  
   Stiles came up to them, a wide show of appreciation on his face. “One-month probation. Peter really saved my ass in there.”

  
   “Doesn’t that usually save your ass?”

  
   “Fuck off, Isaac.” Stiles said, though he was laughing when he did so. “When did we forgive you?”

  
   “We’re on our way to forgiveness.” Allison told him with a bright smile. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  
   “Don’t you all have some medicine to practice?” Ramsey, in her way popped onto the skywalk just to criticize them. “Move!”  
They dispersed quickly, Scott hugging Stiles into a walking hug as they made their way off the skywalk to continue being the young doctors that they were, and would continue to be.

 

 

  His father was finally lucid enough to sign everything over to Stiles when he got to the nursing home later. Everything was finally in Stiles capable hands, and he was glad that his father could rest easy knowing that his things were the property of the only person that could take on the responsibility.

 

 

  After apologizing to Mrs. Joosten profusely, giving up his entire career’s worth of condolences for his wrong doing, Peter was relaxing in one of the many on call rooms. He had just torn off his attending scrub top when the door opened.

  
   Lydia made her way inside the room, giving Peter no time to protest, but he really wasn’t sure that he would have if the chance had been available.

  
   For a moment, there were no words spoken between them. They just looked at each other. And a huge surge to his ego was sent when Lydia’s eyes scanned over his bare chest several times before returning to his baby blues.

  
   “I just wanted to say thanks for the coffee.”

  
   Wasting no time, Peter went up to Lydia, cupped her face and kissed her passionately. She returned the kiss, matching his vigor in every stride that he exhibited. He pulled at the string of her scrub pants, helping her in pulling them off as she did the same, breaking their kissing only to remove more and more clothing until they were both naked, consumed in each other too much to be worried about the consequences of their actions.


	6. Right Here, Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to process the excursion from the party, Stiles finds it difficult being assigned to Derek's service while Ramsey is dead against their interactions with each other. A patient with a massive tumor sets the doctors of Seattle Grace on edge with the prospect of utilizing every doctor they possess. Peter and Lydia's tryst complicates the attending's better judgement. And Stiles finally comes to a conclusion to whether or not he can be with Derek outside of work when they're destined to operate so closely together.

A new rainy day dawned upon Seattle, and as if that wasn't complicated enough for his drive to work, Stiles was running late. He had stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling while he thought about his hook-up with Derek at the party last week, and he had forgotten how late it was and was rushing to work.

Considering his reasoning for being a little late, it was only fitting that he would run into Derek as he walked into the front doors of Seattle Grace Hospital.

"Crap."

Derek looked deeply offended, hurrying to catch up to an already fleeing Stiles. "Crap?"

"Morning. I meant morning." Stiles said. "I'm late."

"You're avoiding me."

Stiles kept walking, but shrugged his shoulders with a light nod. "True, but I'm also very late, which is your fault."

"My fault?" He scoffed. "Are we going to talk about this?"

"Probably not."

He ran in front of him them, halting Stiles' attempt to get away from the situation. "Stiles, Ramsey saw us. We have to talk about that."

"I don't need to talk about it. I experienced it, naked."

The taller man sighed, breathing fresh mint in Stiles face, which wasn't aiding in his efforts to try and get away from the event in which he slept with Derek. Again.

"This is getting overly complex."

Stiles scoffed. "Complex for me, Derek. I'm the one sleeping with an attending." He shifted in place to emphasize that he was still running late and he was the one hindering him from being to work on time. "Ramsey won't even talk to me."

"Which is what you're really upset about, clearly." Derek smirked. "Should I walk away?"

"If you wanted to be the better guy, maybe you should."

Starting his trek towards the locker room, Stiles sidestepped and started speed walking to the elevators at the end of the lobby. He wasn't surprised that Derek was keeping the conversation going by walking behind him.

"Do you want me to walk away?"

"Yes." When he got the elevator, he smashed his fist on the third level, which would finally take him to the surgical floor. Derek stepped inside too, staring at Stiles, awaiting his real answer to the question that he had just asked him. "No. I mean…I'm just late, okay?"

"Think about it. I know I will."

"Derek."

Laughing to himself, Derek shook his head, knowing that the night at the party wasn't going to be his and Stiles' last time together as the elevators doors closed the topic at hand, waiting for them to be on the appropriate floor for them to accurately administer medicine.

x

"That was definitely worth being late."

Lydia was pulling up her pants as she looked over at Peter, who was doing the same.

"Definitely…are we going to talk about this?"

"Totally."

But when Peter was in the process of pulling his scrub top back on, Lydia slipped out of the on-call room, shaking her head at how dead set Peter was on discussing what they were doing to death.

She came into the locker room, pleasantly surprised to see that Stiles was late too.

"You're late." He told her.

"So are you." Lydia went to her locker and started to throw on her scrubs as fast as possible while Stiles worked to do the exact same.

"I know, and it isn't what I need to be, considering how mad Ramsey is at me. I hope she doesn't tell anyone what she saw." The last part he said more to himself, but Lydia had heard him.

"Oh, is this about you and McDreamy? Did you start sleeping with him again?"

He just stared at her, unable to continue getting dressed as he stared at her. "Is everyone calling him that now? And no, I'm not. Definitely not still sleeping. With Derek. Who's my boss."

"You're rambling." Lydia scoffed. "And if you think Scott would keep that perfect nickname to himself, you're obviously wrong."

"It has to stop." He paused to pull on his white coat, finishing his look. "It has stopped. Nothing good can come from sleeping with my boss."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Lydia threw her locker to its closed state and left Stiles with a slightly open mouth, a little surprised at how candor his friend was being with him as he raced to keep up with her, both of them on the hunt for their resident and their fellow interns.

They found their friends trailing Ramsey on the skywalk while they were making their way toward a patient's room.

"You're late, Lydia."

"Yeah, so is Stiles."

He resisted the urge to trip Lydia while they found the right room that housed their patient. They were about to just knock and walk in to the patient's room, but Ramsey blocked the door, giving each and every one of them a heavy stare.

"Before I open this door, you will somehow get a hold of yourselves and remind your small, feeble little pea-sized intern brains that you are a professional. You won't look in awe, scrunch up your face in disgust, or even think of any of the names you want to blurt out when you see what's in this room."

"Why would we resort to name calling?" Allison said, thinking that Ramsey should have known better than to think they were that childish.

"Oh, just wait." Isaac wagged his eyebrows, having already been assigned to the case when the patient had initially been admitted last night.

Sending them one last glare of understanding, Ramsey swung open the door and lead them inside, greeting the patient warmly as the interns, save that of Isaac, looked over the patient with wide eyes that they tried to conceal as best they could when they saw the reason behind Ramsey's earlier warning. Because the patient had a huge, had to be fifty pounds or so, tumor growing off the side of her stomach.

"Good morning, Hallie." Isaac went up to the side of the patient's bed, smiling down at her while his he sent her a gaze of his sparkling green eyes. "These are my fellow interns, and my resident, Dr. Ramsey."

"Lahey, you're to refer to Miss Richardson as such-"

"'Miss Richardson' makes me feel like my mother." The patient nodded toward Ramsey. "I asked him to call me Hallie. All of you should do the same."

At that moment, Peter walked into the room, still working on getting his white coat a round his shoulders. Lydia was hoping no one else but her noticed that he sent a look her way before he gave Hallie a grin. "Good morning."

"Hallie, this is Dr. Hale. He's our amazing cardiothoracic surgeon."

"Instead of the very accurate compliments, why don't you present, Lahey?"

Isaac stood on the balls of his feet, all smiles as he obliged Peter's request. "Hallie Richardson, forty-three, who presented last night with progressive shortness of breath for the last three months and pressed against her diaphragm is a very large tumor of unknown origin. Vitals are stable, CT is scheduled for this morning."

"Very good." Peter flashed Ramsey a grin, glad that she had her interns in such good shape. He looked away to garnish another grin to Hallie. "I hope you're not claustrophobic, Hallie."

"I haven't left my house in the last year, Dr. Hale. Not a whole lot of time for me to become claustrophobic."

"Alright then, we're going to get a CT to get a better look of the tumor." He gestured to Allison before returning his eyes to Hallie. "Dr. Argent here is going to take you."

"Would it be possible if Isaac took me instead?" It was really hard to not hone in on the redness of her cheeks when she mentioned Isaac's name. "He's just so nice to look at."

Peter chuckled lightly as Isaac laid a hand on Hallie's shoulder. "When you're right, you're right."

"Alright, Lahey, settle down. Take Hallie for the CT and report back for pre-op."

They all left the room, the interns hearing a lecture from Ramsey about how Hallie's surgery, assuming there was going to be one, would take a lot of their time so they needed to be extra careful to try and not kill anyone. When the rest of them followed her like ducklings following their mother, Lydia stepped in stride with Peter as they walked in the opposite direction.

"I want in."

"I wanted to talk this morning." Peter shrugged. "We don't always get what we want."

"I'm just saying."

As much as he wanted to, Peter couldn't look into Lydia's eyes and downright send her away without trying to give her what she wanted. It was at that point that he knew he was already in too deep with one of his interns.

He sighed when he focused back on her fair features. "I'll tell Ramsey, if you get the family history from the mother."

Hands clapped, Lydia laughed as she scampered off in search of Hallie's mother, knowing that she had Peter uncontrollably wrapped around her finger. And the best part was that she was having fun with her boss, and she wasn't attached in any way to Peter Hale.

x

"Mr. Preston had a coronary bypass yesterday."

Allison was finding it easier and easier to present to her friends and Ramsey the more and more she has the opportunity to do so, which is what she was doing now and without complications. She was also a little glad that she had missed the opportunity to be a part of Hallie and her tumor's potential surgery. She imagined holding that thing while the attendings worked on his and she instantly felt back pain in her future.

"His blood pressure is currently one hundred over sixty-five. It was running low overnight down to 70/30, but responded to medication. Postoperative labs show a crit of 30 and normal coagulation. Chest-tube output has halted over the last two hours though."

Ramsey, looking slightly less annoyed with Allison, hopefully do to her well informed delivery of the patient's history, something all of them were happy about. "So what do you propose we do next, Argent?"

"Check the tube for possible occlusion and get an x-ray of his chest."

"Good. Very good. Do it then." Ramsey handed her the chart. "Mr. Harper. Dr. Argent is going to take very good care of you."

"Looking forward to it."

Mr. Preston gave Allison a smile, one she chose to nod at, glad that she was looking at a very easy day. Unlike that of whoever had to deal with the massive tumor down the hall from where she was right now, perfectly content with her view for the day.

Continuing their rounds, the interns once again entered the room of another patient in their rounds for the morning. They saw that the patient was a having a hard time walking, being assisted by her son to her hospital bed. Her hands were shaking heavily when Ramsey cleared her throat, her eyes on the patient.

"Good morning."

Previously blocking their view, Ramsey moved aside so the interns could see that Derek was the head attending on the case, something Stiles wasn't at all lost on. When he looked at Derek, he felt really warm and weirdly excited because he was already staring at Stiles. But the two of them, fully aware all of the sudden, knew they weren't alone and got the unfortunate prize of seeing that Ramsey was eyeing them very closely, probably mentally scrutinizing even the smallest of glances that they shared, her face even and unmoved.

"Mrs. Morangie, this is Dr. Ramsey and her wonderful assortment of surgical interns."

The patient scoffed. "Welcome to death."

Choosing not to comment on the sense of morbidity the patient seemed to hold around her, Ramsey decided to speak, not bothering to look at any of her interns in particular.

"Who's presenting?"

Scott spoke up first. "Ella Morangie is a 63-year-old woman admitted for pain management for dyskinesia. She's been responding to the bolus injections and she's been stable since last night upon admission."

"What are the possible treatments?" Bailey demanded. "Allison?"

"For Parkinson's disease? I've heard deep brain stimulation has shown to be-"

"For spinal pain," Derek interrupted. "Not for the Parkinson's."

"Oh…" Allison wasn't sure what the correct answer was. She closed her eyes and tried to look deep within her brain for the answer that would keep Ramsey from yelling at her once they left the patient's room.

"He needs to be administered pain medication constantly." Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Ramsey wasn't liking the way that Stiles looked at Derek when he gave his answer. "Intraspinal catheter."

"Fantastic, Dr. Stilinski." Derek smiled at him, taking the chart from the edge of the bed and giving it to Stiles with a look that lasted a little longer than it probably should have. "Mrs. Morangie, Stiles here is going to prep you for the procedure and assist."

Stiles just gave him a nod, regarding the patient and her son with a curt gesture of acknowledgment when Derek's pager went off, sending him fleeing from the room as the rest of the interns looked like their neuro attending had just flirted with their friend. Even though Stiles had told them that he had no feelings for Derek and that them sleeping together was a one-time thing. Of course, they didn't know that it had turned into a two-time thing, or that Stiles was wanting it to become a multiple time thing.

Ramsey didn't ignore the looks that her interns wore about the entire exchange between her intern and her boss. She commanded her interns to find something to do as she left the room, following Derek to the elevator he had gotten on. She rode in the tiny room with him until the last doctor got off at a lower floor, leaving the two of them alone.

Derek felt the daggers of her stare on the nape of his neck, heat following the sharpness of her glint. To break some of the boiling tension that hissed against his skin, Derek flashed her his a little too perfect teeth. "Helena."

"Excuse me?"

The way she instantly sounded angry at him made him immediately aware that she was utterly appalled at what she had witnessed during the party at Stiles' house the other day.

"Your name is Helena, isn't it?" He tried to play it off cool, but even he knew that he wasn't succeeding in the art of convincing her of his folly. "I can just call you Ramsey if you prefer that."

"You think you're really charming, don't you?"

"Helena-"

"You've got that effortless charm in that neurotic, my-hair-is-disgustingly-tousled-to-perfection, too talented for your own good sort of way, which I'm sure works great for you. And just because I agree with those terms and conditions doesn't mean I'm going to turn the other cheek and watch you favor him…"

"He's good, Dr. Ramsey. I'm not favoring him. He's just really good."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." She said sarcastically.

The elevator chimed its way open, Ramsey having nothing else to say until Derek sparked back her attention to the conversation.

"I am your boss, for the record."

Hearing her scoff, Derek knew that he had just made the biggest mistake in provoking an already blood-thirsty piranha.

"That supposed to make me afraid?" She scoffed again, making Derek feel like he was five years old and receiving a scolding from his mother. "I'm not going to be the one to shout to the central nervous system of this hospital what you're doing and who you're doing it with but if I see you favoring Stiles in any way, I'll make sure he doesn't step foot in an OR for a month."

She walked away once more, adding "Just for the record." in the wake of destruction she had just hand-delivered to Derek. It was a warning Derek knew he shouldn't take lightly, but his pride got in the way. He was an attending, she was a resident. He wouldn't let Ramsey personally take out her feelings on Stiles if he could help it. And he felt safe in knowing that he had that power over her.

x

Lydia, having found Hallie's mother in the lobby on the first floor of the hospital, was finding it really hard to keep her mouth shut as she listened to the rambling of her mother, which was sounding a little too much like excuses to her rather than an explanation as to why she let her daughter wait so long before consulting a doctor about her tumor.

"We all thought it was just weight at first. But then it kept getting bigger." Mrs. Richardson shook his head. "She was too scared to see a doctor, no matter what I said. Hallie never felt nauseous or sick or anything like that, until she couldn't breathe last night."

"Yeah, her lungs were being crushed by the tumor."

Sighing, Lydia felt a little guilty about blurting it out like that. It was the truth though, so she let herself off the hook when Mrs. Richardson didn't retaliate at the blunt comment.

"I called 911. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her, she's my daughter."

"You know, the best thing for you to do for your daughter, would have been to call a year ago."

Lydia didn't understand people. She supposed that was why her bedside manner could use some work. But Lydia Martin didn't fake anything, not even for the sake of the patient or their familiar feelings when she knew they were being ridiculous. Happy with the fact that she had gotten at least a little family history, Lydia hoped it would be enough for Peter to let her in on the surgery. And she didn't have time to hear the further excuses of Mrs. Richardson and how she was basically letting her daughter kill herself for more than a year.

x

"Alright, I'm going to try and get you more comfortable, Mrs. Morangie." Stiles assured his patient and her son, who was smoking hot. Not that Stiles was paying attention to that sort of thing. He kept his attention on his mother though, so he could actually do his job correctly. "I'll be back in a little bit."

"Sounds good, handsome."

Stiles smiled back at her, exiting the room when he heard the patient's son, Declan, following him down the hall, just out of earshot of his mother's room.

"I'm sorry, Doctor…"

"Stilinski." Stiles nodded. "But please, just call me Stiles."

His model-esque physique and blinding white smile was enough for Stiles to sign his soul to the man, but he listened on to his speech anyway. "My mom likes you. She's had a soft spot for gay men." When Stiles just laughed, Declan shook his head with haste. "I'm sorry, that was rude. And assuming. I'm gay and I just thought-"

"No, it's okay. I am. Was there something you wanted to…?"

"Right." Declan's lips quivered in a fit on emotion while he tried to regain control over them. "I was hoping you could talk to her about brain surgery."

"Brain surgery?"

"I've been reading about it online ever since Dr. Hale talked it over with us. Her pain won't be the only thing that would benefit from it if it worked. It would ease most of her symptoms."

"And she's a candidate?"

Nodding, Declan went on. "She's scared. The surgery on her back, she can get behind without questions but she thinks having him perform brain surgery is too much of a risk. She doesn't want to chance it. And her quality of life-"

"There isn't much of it."

"It's getting worse." Tears tiptoed on the rim of his blue eyes. "My boyfriend and I are getting married next month and we're having our mothers walk us down the aisle. I know how stupid that sounds, us being men and all, but I want her to do it, to actually be able to do it." A sigh of desperation left his lips then. "Mark and I already lost both of our fathers. His mother is up to do it, but I don't want to see his mother walk him down if my mother can't do the same for me. I know I'm being selfish or whatever," He leaned in closer to Stiles. "You have no idea how hard it is to watch your parent lose themselves like this and-"

"I know." Stiles nodded. "I do know, what it's like. I'll talk to Dr. Hale."

He heard Declan thank him as he walked away, too reminded of his father's current state to stick around and talk to his patient's son. No amount of charm or level of attractiveness could deter Stiles from the thoughts of the diagnosis his father bore, and he needed a minute alone before he could continue on with his work day.

x

Answering his page, Derek walked into an exam room to find his uncle waiting for him, pulling out Hallie's x-rays and putting them up against the light for Derek to assess.

"You paged."

"The tumor patient, here's her scans."

Mulling over what they were telling him, Derek sighed. "It's infiltrated her spinal canal in three places."

Peter nodded. "Her lung tissue is entirely displaced because the right hemidiaphragm is so high." The slightly older of the pair decided to temporarily put the medicine aside for the moment to push on darker issues that had been welling against Peter's conscious since their last discussion on personal matters. "When are we going to talk about it?"

"Will you let this go? We're not going to be close just because we work together, Peter. We share blood, that's it. Nothing of significance."

"Your mother was my sister, Derek. We're family."

"What family?" The young neurosurgeon was seconds away from spitting in his uncle's face, irate that he had the nerve to bring up such a painful memory that he was doing really well at keeping locked away from those around him. "They're dead. My mother. Both my sisters. They're gone, Peter. Why do we have to discuss that when it's something we both already know with painful clarity?"

"You know they never found your sister-"

"Look, even if Cora made it out of the house alive, she never would have survived the explosion for more than a few minutes. Just because there isn't a body doesn't mean there's a sunshine and rainbows outcome for the survivors of the infamous Hale fire."

Derek never talked about this stuff. This was the most he had talked about it since it happened in…ever. It wasn't something Derek found was easy conversation with people. And the less he discussed it with others, the less he had to deal with it himself. He grunted slightly, eyeing Peter with a newfound attitude.

"Let's get back to the medicine."

Giving up, Peter just huffed. "Fine."

"We should start at the spine. Just to get around those nerves, it'll easily take three to four hours."

"You never know what vessels are involved and how well they're intertwined. That's why I'd rather start in the front before flipping her. I'll probably need the head start."

"Going to the spine first thing is smarter in this case. If I miss a step, she's paralyzed."

"She'll be dead if I don't relieve the pressure on her lungs, so it won't matter that she can't walk."

Throwing up his hands, Derek laughed in defeat. "She's your patient, so I'll go with whatever you suggest."

"Honestly, I don't know if she'll care either way judging by how long she's prolonged this surgery."

"People do things that could get them killed every day, Peter. People play with flammable substances and suddenly the family Christmas card is missing three members." Peter flinched slightly at the abrasive nature of Derek's reference. "Doesn't mean that they want to die."

"Is it worth it?" Ramsey appeared unheard from the doorway as she absorbed the scans after her silent entry, barely looking at the Hales. "How much of a chance does she stand in surgery?"

"Better than if we don't do anything." Peter smiled at her. "We'll need all the help we can get, Helena. I'll see you in surgery."

He left them alone in the room, Derek oddly reminded of their last encounter in the elevator as he plucked the scans from the light and put them away in their respective file.

"He gets to call you Helena?"

"He isn't sleeping with one of my interns."

Realizing that he wasn't going to get on her good side any time soon, Derek receded from the exam room, only to find Stiles ambling up to him with a slight wobble to his usual smile. It made him think that Stiles wanted something from the attending, but was a little apprehensive to ask. The look on his face fell even more when he saw Ramsey hanging out behind him, refusing to move.

"Dr. Hale," Stiles tried to speak as calmly as he could with both Ramsey and Derek's eyes glossing over his façade. "The Parkinson's patient, Mrs. Morangie. I was wondering if she was a decent candidate for DBS?"

Derek had to make sure that he wasn't being too friendly with his answer. He was still adamant that he could outplay Ramsey, but thinking it and living it were too completely different concepts. "She's more than decent, but she doesn't want brain surgery. She's not interested."

"I've been over her labs multiple times, I've reviewed her initial diagnosis." Nervously, Stiles picked at his fingers, which Derek found irrefutably adorable. "I think in this case it's worth looking at again."

He saw the look of utter disgust crashing over Ramsey's eyes as she blinked at them, intent on watching their entire display of communication. Derek knew he couldn't just tell Stiles that he was right, that it was better to take a second look. If he did, he really would be favoring Stiles and he didn't want that heat from Ramsey or anyone else from that matter. He was there to be an excellent attending, and being seen as soft and easy manipulated wasn't good for his position at Seattle Grace.

"This is a wake brain surgery, Dr. Stilinski. There's a risk of paralysis, risk of death. The patient doesn't want it and it's not our place to push her into doing the surgery if they are explicit on not wanting it. And it sure as hell isn't your position to be questioning that."

Stiles, floored at how Derek was acting in juxtaposition with the mood he was in earlier in the day, stammered when he opened his mouth again. "Okay, but-"

"If my decision is so easy to question, it'll be even easier if you don't scrub in on the back procedure."

"But I just-"

"It's a small procedure, you won't be missed."

Lingering for a moment, Stiles didn't know what to do as he looked from Derek to Ramsey and then back again. Not knowing what else to do, he retreated from them for other duties while the attending stared back at Ramsey, chuckling slightly.

"You know they call you the Nazi."

"So I've heard." Her lips pursed, unamused.

He aimed for the opposite hall that she decided to go down as she parted from the examination room, not needing another awkward moment with Ramsey that would stir up a sequel to the unfair yelling at an intern that he had just committed.

x

It was lunch time before Stiles had a moment to lament his feelings on what had happened with Derek. He was walking with Scott to one of the lunch tables in the cafeteria. Stiles had broken down and told Scott about his little adventure with Derek in his car at the party, his need to talk it out with someone breaking his vow of keeping it to himself. His friend had reacted in a neutral way, not condemning nor saluting him for the continuation of his very confusing entanglement with Derek Hale.

"How am I supposed to work with him when he's the boss of her? Ramsey was there the whole time he was screaming at me. He favors me in front of her and then he dismisses me twice as hard."

They took their seats at a secluded table, Scott shaking his head. "You're a doctor. You got into the surgical program without Derek's help. Just because Hale wants to take you for a ride every so often doesn't mean you aren't just as competent of a doctor than the rest of us. You got assigned fair and square earlier. Don't let people like Martin ruin that for you."

"I'm ending it. Right here, right now. No more rides. No more Derek."

"Okay." His friend scoffed, not believing him in the slightest.

"I'm seriously. It's done."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself."

Lydia flitted her way over to them then, slamming her tray down at the same time that Isaac sat down with them at their table, making it really easy for Stiles to not give Scott a comeback to his dismissal.

"I heard Uncle Hale chose you to scrub in with me on the tumor." Isaac cut eyes at Lydia sharply, biting into an apple with a smirk. "He totally wants to see your scrubs on his bedroom floor."

"Was it a concussion when you were a child that made you overtly sexual, or are you just naturally disgusting?" Lydia smiled back with a vicious bite.

"You get to scrub in!?" Scoffing as she sat down, Allison held out her hand for Lydia. "How psyched are you?"

Only to gloat, Lydia high-fived Allison's outstretched hand. "On a scale of ecstatic to making you all look bad…you should all know the answer."

They laughed at Lydia's further insinuating her superiority over them. While they simmered down to loose chuckles over the action, Isaac picked at the thin line of worry that quickly replaced Stiles' laughter.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Hale's an ass."

"Really? I think he's great." Allison nodded, stuffing her face with a blueberry muffin. "Peter is definitely a cardio god."

"Stiles meant Derek." Scott mentioned. "He shamed him in front of Ramsey."

Isaac looked genuinely concerned, weird for all of them because the topic wasn't himself. "Why?"

"Because he's an ass." Stiles finalized his gatherings from the explanation when his pager went off. "I gotta go."

He had just enough time to shovel in a spoonful of applesauce into his mouth before he went at a run to answer his page, wishing he could redeem himself for the incident with Derek by convincing his patient to agree to do the brain surgery everyone seemed to be overlooking as a possible solution to some of her ailings.

x

Finding his way back to Mrs. Morangie's room, Derek was doing some last minute checking up on his patient before they went forward with her back surgery.

"Your back still doing alright?"

"Just fine, Doctor. Thank you." Mrs. Morangie said. "Seems to be a lot of that around here. Fine doctors, I mean. Did you model before getting your degree, Dr. Hale?"

"Mom." Declan, always by her side, just shook his head. "Please ignore her."

"What did I say that was bad? He's a hot doctor."

Derek just tilted his head slightly and laughed. "Thank you, Mrs. Morangie. I'm flattered."

Coming in with loud footsteps, Stiles entered the room, Derek glancing in his direction only for a few seconds before writing down a few things in the patient's chart.

"You paged?" Stiles said. He was hoping that Derek was paging to apologize for how he acted back near the exam room. But if he was, he wasn't going to do so in front of a patient.

"Mrs. Morangie, is there any chance you've thought a little more about the surgical options we discussed this morning?"

Stiles was shocked that Derek was even mentioning the DBS procedure at all. Back when Ramsey was looming over them, he had practically condemned his entire medical career for even suggesting something that the patient had already decided to not go through with. And here he was, doing the same thing in front of the patient. That's when Stiles began to wonder if he was just being mean to him when Ramsey was around to try and save face for their "relationship".

"This again? I already told you, no. You're getting to operate on my back and you just can't stop cutting so much that you want to stir my brain while you're at it?"

"Mrs. Morangie, there's only a little measure of time that DBS is even an option. If the Parkinson's settles into dementia, it will be too late to try and operate."

"I'm done discussing this!"

"Mom, just listen to what he has to say."

"No, Declan. I'm not having the brain surgery."

"Alright." Derek tried to look happy and not like he had just brought up the matter to try and get Stiles to like him a little more than he did back at the examination room. "I'll come by a little later."

Not allowing anytime for them to talk alone, Derek left the room, barely making eye contact with Stiles when he did so. Stiles remained in the room, hoping that maybe he could talk to Mrs. Morangie and get her to see that this surgery didn't have to end badly.

"Mom, the doctors are just trying to give you every option available. Will you please think about what this surgery could do to ease your symptoms?" Declan pleaded.

"Is this about the wedding?" The look on her son's face told her that her assumption was indeed correct. "Your sister can walk you down the aisle. You'll get over it. I'm still going to be there to see you get married. This is my life. Life isn't always happy, Declan."

Declan just stared at her, wiping away tears from his face. "I'm fully aware of that, trust me."

He stormed out of his mother's room then, Stiles just staring at Mrs. Morangie as her Parkinson's really began to act up.

"If he knows that, then why the hell are we arguing, right?"

He shook his head. "It's not just your life. It's his life too. You have the opportunity to get better and make it easier for your son to take care of you, which he's dedicated his life to doing without question. And he's asking is for you to give it a thought."

x

When Ramsey walked into the scrub room connected to OR 2, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Isaac and Lydia were already scrubbing in and weren't awaiting her command to rush down to the room.

"You two ready for this?"

"Born ready." Lydia shimmied, utterly full of herself.

"Why?"

"Because, Lahey, you're going to be retracting that large tumor for the next fourteen hours. I'm just saying, I hope you both have strong backs."

"Great."

"That complaining I hear?"

"We'll be fine." Lydia nodded. "I can make up for Isaac's lack of determination if he falters."

Isaac lightly shoved Lydia on their way into the OR, allowing Ramsey the alone time she craved so that she could scrub in herself without being bothered. Derek entered shortly after though, causing a smile prickling of annoyance in the forefront of her head.

"Dr. Ramsey."

"Dr. Hale."

She wasn't going to be outright rude to her attending before the procedure. It would be a bad energy to put upon the patient during surgery and Ramsey was a huge believer in needing a good spirit when operating. So she put her personal issues aside, Derek scrubbing in right beside her.

Stiles barged into the scrub room then, adding to the degree of irritation that Ramsey was feeling. He looked at her first for about a split second before he, as usual, she was realizing, looked to Derek for further instruction.

"Dr. Hale, it's Mrs. Morangie."

He was still being cautious by not looking into those dark irises Stiles owned, not trusting himself to stay a hundred percent professional while he was looking into them while they talked. Derek kept scrubbing his hands until they were sterile, not daring to take his own eyes off the suds pooling around his fingernails. "What about her?"

Peter entered the room while Derek awaited Stiles' answer, quickly scrubbing in himself and making it a very crowded scrub room.

"She's agreed to DBS. But only if we do it today."

"Go ahead, dear nephew." Peter said, leaving the sink and holding his hands up so that he didn't touch anything. "It'll be hours before we get to the spine. I'll page you when we do."

"Don't call me that." Derek growled. "But alright, let's go, Stilinski."

Both Hale's went in opposing directions then, Peter settling for the thrill of the OR and Derek going to find Mrs. Morangie and prep for the brain surgery they were going to perform. Ramsey was just finishing the sterilization of her hands, suddenly aware of the fact that Stiles was still standing in the scrub room with her instead of following Derek to assist in surgery.

"Dr. Ramsey, I didn't know. When I met him, I didn't know he would end up being my boss. And I definitely didn't think that it was going to amount to anything beyond meeting a bar and then heading back to my place to-"

"What makes you think I care about where this little monologue is heading?"

"Oh." Stiles wasn't expecting to be interrupted, or challenged on the fact of whether or not she even wanting to hear what he had to say. "It's just you haven't really been talking to me and, uh, I figured after you saw what you saw…"

"Here's the problem, this, right here. This exchange going on between us right now? This is the issue I have with you sleeping with my boss. I don't care when you knew him, because regardless, it directly affects my day. Us standing here, talking about your ridiculous sex life, affects my day. And the longer this little hook-up continues, the more the others are wondering why you're getting assigned to more and more of his cases, when they start finding out and come to me about not being able to work with you or be your friend or even look at you without wanting to stab you with a scalpel for the favors your receiving, and they start whining and complaining to me, the more it affects my day. So no, Dr. Stilinski, I don't care what you know, or when you knew it. Understand?"

"Yes." It was all Stiles could say. He felt like she has just decimated his entire life.

"Good."

Stiles left in a fury of mixed emotions, wondering how he was going to continue being Ramsey's intern when she was already out to get him in every way possible.

x

Running the entire floor by herself wasn't so bad of a thing when Allison really thought about it. Scott had been pulled into the tumor surgery for whatever reason, and all she knew about it was that Isaac had gotten kicked out for making some type of comment about the patient's tumor. He was supposed to be around here somewhere, but he wasn't answering her pages.

Films in hand, she made her way back into her patient's room, greeting Mr. Preston's wife when she came into the room.

"Here's Xavier's chest films, Mrs. Preston." She waited for his wife to come over to him while he was resting. "We were successful in removing the obstruction of his chest tube, so the buildup of fluid you see should resolve itself pretty soon." When Mrs. Preston remained silent and just stared at her like she was speaking Portuguese, Allison smiled. "Which is Doctor for he should be discharged soon."

"Thank you. For everything. I know you must be pretty busy." Mrs. Preston said. "I heard there's a giant tumor somewhere around this hospital."

Allison was about to mention how she'd rather be helping her husband when one of the nurses came into the room. She excused herself, telling Mrs. Preston that she'd be back soon, and followed the nurse out into the hall.

"What's up?"

"The patient in 2014 needs a central line."

"Can you page Dr. Lahey?"

"Not answering." He shook his head.

"Fine. I'm on my way."

She took it upon herself to page him again as she went to do the central line. Of course, she had no way of knowing that Isaac's pager was dead, and he wasn't receiving any of the multiple pages that were being sent his way.

Three patients later, Allison was getting a little tired of doing everything herself. She was just about to take a small little break when the nurse from earlier came up to her again.

"Dr. Argent, I need you to check the x-ray in 2103. 2118 needs post-op notes, and Jane's wondering if you want her to start feeding 2112." He sighed. "I'm heading to break."

Swallowing another sigh, Allison went to go do exactly what he was asking. But not before she raised her voice. "On your way to do that, page Dr. Lahey again."

"I already paged him."

"Yeah, again?"

x

"Alright, Mrs. Morangie, try and mimic what I'm doing with my hands."

The brain surgery was thrilling for Stiles, and he wasn't even watching Derek perform it. Mrs. Morangie, since she was awake while they were operating to see if they could find the precise location that caused motor function, was more than a little nervous, asking if Stiles minding sticking close by to try and calm her, which Stiles had no problem with. There was another doctor in front of Mrs. Morangie, folding one hand over the other, which was the action that she was trying to get her to replicate.

"Damn it!" Mrs. Morangie said, frustrated with her spastic hands that were keeping her from doing what the doctor wanted her to do.

"You're doing great, Mrs. Morangie." Stiles assured her. "Take a deep breath and try again."

"The probe is almost in. You'll know when we find the right spot." Derek said to try and get her to ease her worries.

Almost immediately, Mrs. Morangie's hands stabilized, no longer shaking violently. She cried out, shocked that she had control over her own hands again, something she only dreamed of after her diagnosis.

"Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed, able to do the folding of her hands exercise the doctor was trying to get her to perform with newfound ease.

"There it is." Derek smiled, looking at Stiles, mirroring his vibrant grin.

"Thank you." Mrs. Morangie said, staring up at Stiles. "Thank you for getting me to change my mind because you just changed my life."

"You're welcome." Stiles said, reaching over and squeezing her now idle hands. "Let's go break the good news to your son." He nodded, showcasing his teeth in a true maneuver of happiness. "You're walking down that aisle."

They were wheeling Mrs. Morangie back to her room when Derek decided to apologize for the incident outside of the examination room. It wasn't exactly the setting Stiles had in mind for the encounter, but he'd take it.

"Ramsey was on a rampage." Derek tried to explain his earlier actions. "She cornered me in the elevator, I was trying to protect you."

"Your protective nature over me is exactly why she was fuming. You can't favor me."

"Alright."

"And you can't haze me when I haven't deserved it either."

"Okay." Derek knew now that he had messed up.

"I can take care of myself. Usually. Like, eighty-five percent of the time."

The hallway changed as they turned down a new one, heading for the elevator that would take them back to the patients' floor.

"So, what does that mean about…what happened at the party?"

"I…I haven't decided yet."

Derek's pager went off right as the elevator slid open, his eyes heavy on Stiles' frame as the nurses with them went ahead and wheeled her inside.

"Go. Answer your page."

"You did great today, Stiles. I'm saying that as your boss, not as anything else."

An inclined lipped smile brought brightness to Stiles' face. "I, uh, I'm sorry I called you an ass."

"You didn't." Derek said, confused at the admission.

"I did. Twice."

Shaking his head and smiling back at him, Derek left to answer his page and Stiles joined everyone in the elevator.

"Tell you what," Mrs. Morangie laughed lightly. "If you don't marry him, I will."

Grinning once again, Stiles let the elevator doors block his view of Derek, all while he thought about whether he really could be the kind of guy who dated his boss. Especially when he couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter what scenario that countered it seemed to show him.

x

"Xavier! Don't you dare die!"

Allison heard the threat-laced concern before she ran into Mr. Preston's room. Alarms were blaring loudly when she got there, a squad of staff already there awaiting a doctor.

"What's happening?"

"He has runs of v-tach that aren't perusing. CVP is sky high and pressure cascaded to sixty-four over twenty-two."

"Ten mikes of dopamine." Allison nodded.

"Maxed out on that, Doctor. The resident was here an hour ago but he's not responding to his page."

"As if anyone is today?" she sighed, wondering what the next step was.

"Save him! You're supposed to save him!" Mrs. Preston screamed, seemingly to answer her inner thoughts.

"Someone get her out of here! I need to think." Allison ran her hands through her hair, trying to pull focus back on what immediate action she needed to perform to save her patient's life before he slipped away for good. "Myocardial ischemia. Does he have it?"

"It's a clot," they told her. "A massive one."

"We need someone else. Page someone else."

"He'll be dead before they get here, Doctor. It's tamponade."

"You have to open him right here, you don't have a choice."

Allison shook her head and the two of them. "I could kill him. I've never even seen it done before."

"You'll kill him faster if you don't do anything."

"Oh God." A nurses helped Allison pull on a pair of gloves while everyone raced against time to clear his chest so she could cut his chest open. "I'm never cracked a chest."

"Cut the stitches and then the staples, Doctor."

Doing as suggested, Allison tried not to throw up inside the patient as she tried to find the source of the clot inside Mr. Preston's chest.

"Wide complex rhythm. No pulse." Someone said, Allison didn't know who. She was still trying not to kill her patient. But what she was doing wasn't helping.

"I need more suction. I can't get the clot out. More suction, more."

"You have to get the clot out, Dr. Argent. He's plummeting fast."

"Dammit." Allison throw away her instrument. "Screw it, I'm using my hand."

Reaching inside the chest cavity, she located the clot and scooped it out of Mr. Preston, throwing it on the table nearby, awes exiting everyone's mouth at the massive size of his clot. Allison saw that there was no change though, deciding that she had to massage his heart to try and jump start its' beating. After about thirty seconds of gently drawing circles around her heart with her palm, his stats started to normalize.

"We have a pulse." A smiling nurse applauded.

She ran down to the OR as fast as she could to get Peter. There was no way she was going to do anything else, since the patient was stable now, until she told someone that she had just cracked his chest completely by herself.

Once she found the OR where he was performing on Hallie, she barged in as Derek and Ramsey were assisting with the surgery. Allison also took in the miserable faces of her friends as Scott and Lydia struggled to hold up the tumor throughout everything that their superiors did.

"I'm sorry for barging in, but it's my post-op heart patient in 2114, Mr. Preston. I just had to open his sternotomy bedside."

The looks Allison received from everyone were ones of disbelief and awe, given that the action she had performed wasn't one normally performed by a first year intern with very little experience.

"You did what!?" Ramsey screeched.

"He had cardiac tamponade. It happened so fast. His chest films were clean this morning. He was in PEA. There wasn't any time, you all were in here."

"Go." Derek gestured at Peter. "I've got everything covered here, go."

"Alright, Argent. Let's see how much damage you just did to this guy's heart."

"Retraction, I need some retraction." Derek barked at one of the scrub nurses.

Peter left the room, not looking back to see if Allison was following when Isaac stormed into the scrub room they had retreated to.

"You didn't think about paging me? I was on the floor, but no, you had to take all the credit for yourself." He seethed.

She threw her hands up in his face, gesturing wildly. "I paged you a million times! You have no idea the hell that I've been through since this surgery took all the doctors we have!"

Glancing down at his pager, Isaac winced. "Oh, my battery died."

"Your battery died? Your battery died!?" Allison grabbed his pager and shattered it when she tossed it in the bottom of the sink. "So much for me finding a way to forgive you because you'll always be a selfish, arrogant, hateful, stupid, sorry excuse of a doctor!"

She yelled in frustration as she left the scrub room, Derek having been too captivated to look away from the debacle.

"That was entertaining." He scoffed. Suddenly, one of Hallie's blood vessels burst open, squirting blood all over Derek and Ramsey. "Oh my God."

"Hallie can't afford to lose this much blood. We need more." Ramsey argued.

"Suction," Derek ordered. "I can't see what I'm doing. Clamp there, clamp. Is there any blood in the rapid infuser?"

"We're waiting on two units."

Derek glared at Isaac, who was still standing in the scrub room, picking up the remains of his pager. "Lahey! Get down there and see where those bags of O-Neg are, now!"

He went off like a track star from the room, hoping he could make it in time.

"We're losing her."

Hallie flatlined, leaving Derek no choice but to try and resuscitate her with his hands, heaving hard to try and get her back to their plane of existence. He kept trying and trying, but it was too late. She had already lost too much blood. In a fit of anger, Derek ripped off his mask.

"Time of death, eleven forty-two."

x

Scrubbing in on Mr. Preston's follow up surgery, Allison was watching Peter resect the artery walls.

"I'm sorry. I did everything I could think of when I saw the clot."

"Don't be sorry, Argent." Peter looked at her, impressed. "You saved this man's life."

Proud of herself, Allison knew that she should quit second guessing herself. She was a surgeon. And thanks to the compliments of the head of cardio, she knew was on her way to becoming a damn good one.

Down the hall, Stiles was watching Mrs. Morangie and her son Declan walking down the hall towards him, showcasing that she would definitely be with her son, walking down the aisle on his wedding day, just like Declan had always dreamed of. When they got to Stiles, they both enveloped him in a hug.

"Thank you," Declan kissed his cheek. "Thank you for everything you've given us."

Stiles nodded, a flare of joy as he watched the two of them embrace each other, knowing that they would both get everything they had always ever wanted. It made him think about what he really wanted, what he could live with if he didn't follow through with what we really desired. He didn't want to take any choices and throw away anything that could amount to something one day, because he knew that if he let go of this thing he had with Derek, that he'd hate himself and always wonder what if.

x

Peter walked into one of the on-call rooms, not alarmed to see Lydia in there waiting for him since he had followed her inside after waiting the appropriate amount of time so that no one got wise on what they were doing.

"Today was the last time," he told her as she laid out on the bottom bunk of the bed inside the room. "I'm not doing you any more favors after today. I don't need people thinking that I'm giving you special privileges."

She rolled her eyes, stretching her joints from the exhaustion they currently felt. "For twelve hours, I've been holding up fifty pounds of tumor, and the patient didn't even make it through the surgery. You think that you did me a favor?"

"I'm…Lydia, what exactly are we doing? What is this?"

They looked at each other, Peter worried about what their earlier reservations meant while Lydia just chose to give him her favorite mischievous look.

"You really want to be the guy that looks at what this is that we're doing and needs a definition?"

Finally smiling, Peter locked the door and tore off his scrub top, letting it fall to the floor lazily. Lydia just smiled up at him, kicking off her shoes as Peter made his way over to her, ready for what was about to happen after the long day both of them had endured.

x

Glad that the end of the day had finally arrived, Stiles was standing in the rain outside of the hospital, waiting for Derek as he stood in front of his boss' car. The rain continued to pour down from the dark sky, a curve elevating his mouth as Derek approached his car. The taller man laughed in disbelief at the sight of Stiles waiting for him next to his vehicle, a bag cradled in his arms.

"I don't ever want to have regrets."

"Stiles," Derek beamed with joy, but he was interrupting Stiles' already prepared speech. So, the younger man ignored him.

"I don't want to wake up one day to look down and see that I have a tumor and think 'Well, I'm going to die anyway.' Or get a diagnosis that's treatable with surgery and decided that I've exhausted all my options and give in." he shook his head. "I'm not giving up on something just because it's hard, or because the outlook might turn out bad because…I really, really want to do what I can while I still have a choice."

Derek just stood there, not really knowing what he should say. "I don't either." he said in response to the topic of regrets.

"So," Stiles revealed the large bottle of wine he had been storing in the cloth bag he was keeping close to him. "I know this place that has the most breathtaking view over the ferryboats."

"I have a thing for ferryboats." Derek laughed.

"I remember." He nodded, clearly the decision behind their soon-to-be location.

"Take me there."

Stiles, laughing at the easy way it was to fall into being with Derek, got into his car while he did the same. As they backed out of the parking lot of Seattle Grace Hospital, Stiles knew that what he was doing was professionally a risk, but that personally, he was ready to really pursue this thing he had with Derek, no matter what consequences came of their now ready to blossom relationship.


	7. He's Talented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they're seeing each other casually, Stiles and Derek work to keep their relationship a secret, which doesn't work out as well as they had hoped. Isaac tries his best to remain professional when he finds out that a doctor is drinking on the job. Sick with the flu, Lydia works hard to recover but is thwarted with life-changing news.

Stiles was pretty unprepared to wake up when he heard his alarm going off. He was lying in bed, enjoying just the simple nature of being naked and not having to work. Reaching for the alarm, he didn't find the alarm on the bedside table like it normally was. With too much sleep in his eyes, he found the clock on the floor right next to bed and immediately slammed its alarm to the off position. Shimmying his way back on the bed comfortably, he felt a hand graze his bare hip, turning his lips to the sky with a smile as he heard the low grumble of Derek's grunt at being woken up.

"Derek, it's time for you to get up."

"Huh?" He stirred himself fully awake, pausing to kiss Stiles' shoulder. "What time is it?"

"It's five-twenty. I have pre-rounds and you have to leave before they see you."

"Oh, come on. You already told them about the first time."

"Telling them that I slept with a guy who turned out to be my boss is a lot different than telling my friends that I'm casually seeing my boss."

"Just let them see."

"No!"

He rolled on top of Stiles then, lightly pining him down and demanding that he forgot that his friends remotely cared who he was seeing, whatever the terms were. Laughing, Stiles kept deflecting Derek's request, the latter just attacked Stiles neck with kisses until they were both laughing together, finally at a place where they were happy with what was happening between them.

In the kitchen, Allison was staring at the coffee pot, waiting for its gift of caffeine that she so desperately craved. Quietly, Isaac made his way into the kitchen as well, wearing just a pair of plaid pajama pants that he had slept in. With a massive growl, Isaac leaned against the counter next to her. Over the past week, Allison and Isaac had officially made up for the Billie Wilds thing and the whole ordeal about him forgetting to change his pager and leaving her with all the work. Allison actually thought they were on their way to being at the same level of friendship as she was with the other interns, but she was still holding some reservations in the back of her mind about him.

"You get any sleep last night?"

Allison shook her head. "As if I could sleep through that. He could at least pad that headboard."

"Who do you think the guy is?"

"The guy? You think it was just one doing all that?"

"Coffee. I just need coffee." Isaac pleaded as he lightly smacked the coffee pot, his futile attempt to get it to make the brew faster than it could.

"I'm a little jealous. I can't remember the last time I had sex all night long." Allison admitted, tapping her fingers on the counter while she waited for the French blend to finish. "If any good comes from this, we know he'll be dragging all day long."

They heard the sound of Stiles' mystery man making his way down the stairs. Trying to be discreet, Allison and Isaac peeked as best they could out of the kitchen door when they saw a blur of motion as the guy raced out of the door. But not before they identified they guy as Derek Hale.

"Wow. I guess brain surgery isn't the only thing he's talented at."

Isaac looked back at Allison in horror. "They're doing it again? They can't. He's his boss!"

"He's all of our boss." She said with a heavy sigh, quickly grabbing they coffee now that it had finally finished and poured some into two thermoses for them. "We're going to be late." Her head raised as a thought entered her brain. "Now that I think about it, hasn't Stiles been scrubbing in on a lot of his surgeries lately?"

"Stiles is the by-product of two genius doctors," Isaac scoffed, quickly taking a sip of the fantastically warming feel of the coffee sliding down his throat. "He doesn't need to do that do get ahead. He wouldn't do that anyway."

"Why is he keeping it a secret from us if he's not feeling totally guilty about it?"

"Maybe it just happened. Again."

Stiles stormed through the kitchen then, cutting off their back and forth before it could turn into anything else. "Morning."

"Right, morning." Allison said, waiting by the door while Stiles poured himself the rest of the coffee. "Who's the guy? It was obvious you were having some pretty life-altering sex last night."

His back turned towards them meant that they didn't see the terrified look on Stiles' face when she spoke. "Uh, no one you guys know."

Rolling her eyes at the lie, Allison grabbed her jacket. "Let's go then. We're late."

Once they got to work and made their way out of Stiles' jeep, they were met by Scott, who was getting off of his motorcycle, parking right next to them.

"Jesus, Scott." Stiles laughed. "Wouldn't want to run into you in the middle of the night."

Noting how tired he looked, Scott smiled back. "Right back at you."

While they all made their way across the parking lot, Lydia came running up, completely decked out in athletic gear.

"Are you serious? You have time to run?" Allison snickered.

"I think I have the flu." Lydia nodded, falling into step with them.

"So you're trying to sweat it out?"

"Pretty much."

Soon they were all in the locker room, and the coffee wasn't helping Isaac or Allison with how badly they were drained and entirely unprepared for the work day.

"I need a kick-ass surgery to make it through this day." Isaac sighed.

"Ooh," Lydia cooed, wagging her eyebrows at him while she put her hair up in a ponytail. "Was someone really bad last night?"

Stiles tried to roll the comments off his back, even though they weren't directed at him. He was ready to do this thing with Derek but he wasn't exactly ready to announce it to all of his friends just yet. He was at his locker, standing next to Scott while he got ready while they rest of his friends did the same.

"That'd be Stiles." Allison said, rolling her eyes.

"Stiles," Lydia smiled. "Never would have pegged you to be such a bad boy."

Scott pulled on his white coat and locked eyes with his best friend. "Spill."

"Nothing to spill."

"Which means there's everything to spill."

Fed up with Stiles still not admitting the truth to them, Allison slammed her locker and made her way through the locker room.

"Congrats, but next time let me know when you're inviting company over so I can get some sleep at a hotel."

She exited the room, leaving Stiles dumbfounded and unable to find the right words to say. "Am I missing something here?"

"It was loud. Very loud."

Isaac slammed his own locker shut, leaving with a giggling Lydia as they left the locker room. Scott turned back toward Stiles and just scoffed.

"Do they know that the one keeping them up all night is McDreamy?"

Shaking his head, Stiles still couldn't hide the smallest of all smiles at the mention of Derek. "I hope not. I don't need my roommates thinking that he's' favoring me when I already have Ramsey riding my ass."

"I thought that was Derek."

"Shut up." Stiles shoved him, causing the other guy to laugh as they walked out of the locker room.

Walking down the hallway, Stiles and Scott hustled to keep up with their resident and friends as they made their way throughout the hospital. As they walked by an open room, they all saw Derek administering eye drops to his eyes, a sign for Allison and Isaac that there was no mistaking that he was the one that Stiles had kicked out of the house that morning.

"McCall, Martin, Lahey, go ahead and head down to the clinic." They departed pretty quickly, not quickly enough that Ramsey didn't have to bark a "Go!" for them to scamper away from her field of vision. Allison was quietly sipping on her coffee as Stiles exhibited a huge yawn, one the resident quickly noticed.

"Did we have a late night, Stilinski?"

"Not at all." Stiles said swiftly, which stirred a scoff from Allison as they went inside the room Derek was in.

"Good, because there's a consult in the pit, Girl with a fever and abdominal pain. After that, Madison in room 3311 needs her meds. Mr. Fuller's IV fell out. Post-ops need to be done in 1337, 3363, 3342, and 2381."

"All of that?" He sighed.

"I missed the part it's my problem. It's yours now. Go."

He ran off in a hustle, Allison continually sipping on her coffee and looking annoyed, something her resident quickly caught on to.

"What's wrong? You look more like me than your naturally bubbly self this morning.

"I'm fine." Allison lied, braving a smile for Ramsey.

Whether or not the resident believed her, it would have to wait. At that exact moment a couple came running up to them. A woman was leading her boyfriend over to them, his hands around his throat in anguish.

"Is everything alright?" Ramsey asked her.

"No. Nothing is alright because my boyfriend swallowed me keys."

Allison and Ramsey shared a glance of astonishment before the boyfriend coughed, attempting to talk.

"I didn't want her leave me."

Rolling her eyes, Ramsey gestured at her young intern. "Find the woman's keys."

x

Scott was going by admitting down on the lower floor of the hospital, trying to find a patient when he walked up on one that was bleeding. He was talking to the nurse about having an appointment while blood was dripping on the floor from his shoulder.

"Sir," Scott walked up to him. "Do you mind if I check out your shoulder? I think you're bleeding."

"Sure, but I already know that I'm bleeding." The dark-skinned man nodded.

Eyes widening, he looked from the patient to the nurse and then back again. "You have a gunshot wound." Glancing around, Scott's eyes fell on Lydia, who was roaming around feeling terrible because of her case of the flu. "Lydia, get a wheelchair, we have a gunshot wound."

She responded as he instructed, wheeling over the chair for the patient to sit in.

"I appreciate the fuss, but I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, Mr…"

"Silk. Owen Silk."

"Right, Mr. Silk, you have a gunshot wound. We have to get you down the pit right away."

"It's okay." Mr. Silk assured them as Scott walked beside him, Lydia pushing him in the wheelchair towards the pit. "I told the nurse right before you came up that I made an appointment. I scheduled this."

"You knew you were going to get shot?"

Lydia's question was one Scott felt the need to be answered as well, both of them looking to the patient for further understanding of what he meant.

"Of course. I got someone to shot me. On purpose, as a favor?"

"A favor?" Scott shook his head.

"Why?"

Owen Silk smiled as brightly as the sun in the early morning. "I love the scars."

A few minutes later, they were all in the pit and accurately assessing Mr. Silk's wounds.

"Like I was saying, this is my art. Scars are permanent, like tattoos."

"The bullet went all the way through." Lydia sighed. "Do you enjoy being so stupid?"

"Lydia." Scott chastised, but Owen waved them both off.

"It's fine, it is stupid. But it's my calling."

Suddenly feeling incredibly nauseous, Lydia must have gone completely pale, because Scott instantly put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Nausea. And you touching me isn't helping."

He recoiled at her utterance as she left in a whirl, seeking a bathroom before she succumbed to the embarrassment of her flu symptoms in front of her patients.

"Sorry about that." Scott laughed lightly. "There's a flu going around the hospital."

"Irony." Mr. Silk shrugged. "Gotta love it."

Shaking his head, Scott went on with trying to help Owen and his out of this world commitment to the art of body harming.

x

"It's just a fever."

"She's been feeling this way ever since she got back from Cancun."

"I swear, I'm fine."

Stiles kept listening to the mother of his patient and his patient bickering about how exactly she had fell ill enough to need to be admitted into Seattle Grace Hospital.

"I understand that it might just be a fever," He wedged his own dialogue between them. "But they did call over a surgeon, so I have to do an exam."

"No, I don't want an examine."

"Emily, just do the damn examine. I don't want to be stuck in this…hospital all day."

Once the mother was gone and Emily submitted to the protocol of the examine, Stiles started to press on her abdominals. The lower he got toward her belly button, the more she seemed to wince and retract against his touch.

"Can you lift your shirt for me, Emily?

"What?" Panic was evident in her voice. "Why?"

"I just need to see your stomach for a sec."

Fear was instantly recognizable in her eyes as Stiles watched, his patient slowly lifting up her shirt to reveal four plump and pink scars on her stomach.

"You've had surgery." Stiles said, not believing his own eyes. "And recently. Emily, what did you have done?"

She turned away from him, unable to say the words out loud. Stiles just rolled down her shirt, covering her stomach once more, wondering how he was going to get Emily to tell her parents that she had had some type of surgery while she was vacationing in Mexico.

x

Isaac was treating a patient, his first really young patient, who's foot was twitching of its own accord. The little girl was only about two or three, and her parents were under a lot of distress about what could be possibly causing her leg to twitch so badly.

"You said it's been happening for about three months?"

"It was only a little bit at first." Mrs. Thames nodded. "We took Chevy to the county hospital and she got a CT scan there, which showed her-"

"Brain abnormality." Isaac had assumed as much, judging by the constant tremors that Chevy was experiencing. "You did a good thing by coming in, since it's gotten so much worse." He got close to the young girl, assuring her that everything was going to be alright as she tugged on his stethoscope and smiled up at him. He laughed and let her have it before looking back up at the patients. "I'm gonna bring in Dr. Hale, he's the head of neurosurgery."

"And he's good, this Dr. Hale?" Mr. Thames inquired.

"Oh, he goes all night." His mind cursed him as he took in the gravity of what he had just said. "In surgery. He's so good, he spends all night in surgery." He laughed nervously. "I'll, uh, I'll got get him."

He left the parents then, searching for Derek while he tried to get a handle on his animosity towards the attending, considering the fact that he was going to be on his service today. Not matter how badly he wished he wasn't going to be with the attending that was sleeping with Stiles, and trying to keep it a secret from everyone.

x

Having just brought Ramsey the films from her patient that had swallowed his girlfriend's keys, Allison waited for her resident to deduce the x-rays acutely.

"Is it safe to assume that she's leaving his sorry ass and therefore needs to keys to do so?"

Allison hide her laughter, but couldn't quite hide her smile. "He needs a bronchoscopy?"

"He does." Ramsey grabbed the films and handed them back to Allison. "I suggest you get started."

"Me? I mean, alone?"

"You've seen one, haven't you? Time to do one, Argent."

"Really? Thank you." Allison beamed. "I've been studying non-stop and working really hard and I thought no one would notice or say anything or give me a chance and-"

"Argent?"

"Yeah?"

"You can do your rambling on the way to prep your patient for his bronchoscopy."

"Right." The long brunette-haired intern. "Thanks again, Dr. Ramsey."

Ramsey swapped out her interns then, because as Allison was leaving, Stiles came sauntering up to her with a look of concern on his face.

"I got your page."

"Yeah, what's the situation with everything I gave you earlier?"

Mentally letting the obscenities flow forth, Stiles steeled himself and just gave his resident a curt nod. "I finished with the IV, the consult, the post-ops, and the meds. Everything is taken care of, just like you asked."

"What about the pit patient?"

"She had peritoneal signs and she's febrile."

During their trek across the skywalk, they ran into a very sickly Lydia, who looked like she was struggling just to stay upright. "Everything alright, Dr. Martin?"

Plastering the fakest smile she could, Lydia brightly grinned at her boss. "Fantastic. Heading back to the clinic now."

Falling victim to her flu once again, Lydia ran away from them once they turned down the stairs, fleeing from any further interactions with her equals or superiors. Ramsey decided to take down one intern at a time as she and Stiles went along with their journey descending down the stairs. Stiles, unable to take the silence anymore with the woman that had caught him post-sex with both of their boss, he grunted a shift in their dynamic.

"There's no way she didn't have a surgery done while she was supposedly in Cancun."

"You think she had an illegal surgery?"

"Why else would she have four laparoscopic scars on her abdomen and refuses to tell me how she acquired them?"

"What do the parents think?'

"They don't know."

"Alright, order a CT and we'll go from there."

He nodded. "Already did."

"Perfect, so while she's there, the nurses couldn't get a Foley on one of their patients. Probably needs a Coude cath if you can't work the normal one to your will. Post-op notes need to be done on all surgical floor patients that have had surgery with the last twenty-four hours. Make sure you get their x-rays and their EKG's. Hunt them down until you have all of that information before I see you again.

She was doing this on purpose, he knew that much. Ramsey piling on the workload on him was his punishment for the incident with having sex with Derek in his car. It was looming over his head and Ramsey was the one holding the strings that dangled it over his every move career wise. But Stiles had had enough. He was refusing to give in on the Derek front anymore. So, to keep from instigating with his other boss, he just agreed with her terms and said, "Right away, Dr. Ramsey." before he left in a whirl of determination.

x

Almost knocking her over, Peter had to steady himself to keep from running into a very pale Lydia as she roamed the halls.

"Whoa, what happened to you?"

"Flu." She said annoyed, as if he should have already known what was the matter with her. "And thanks for giving it to me. I feel as bad as I look."

"I'm fine." Peter disagreed. "I wasn't the one to give it to you."

"I haven't been anywhere else but here. And since we've been having sex…"

"The flu is circling around the hospital," He told her. "But about that other thing-"

"Not now, I've got to power through this sickness."

They kept walking around the bottom floor of the hospital, waiting for patients to be admitted. Lydia stopped at a pillar to catch her breath, wondering about whether or not she was going to throw up or not. Her stomach settling for a second, she pushed off of the structure and kept walking, Peter trailing behind.

"Seriously, Lydia, you should go home. I can take you to your place."

"We're totally not at the stage where you get to see my place." She scoffed. "You go home."

Almost running away from him, Peter had to resort to yelling "But I feel fine!" as she faded from distance, causing him to sigh, once again tricked into not talking about the fact that he was sleeping with an intern, yet again.

x

Standing in the scrub room watching Derek perform a surgery, Isaac halted on the action of barging in on his boss. He was still a little pissed off about the whole Stiles and Derek situation and how they were lying to everyone about it. It was recommendations from attendings like Derek that would make or break their careers in the surgical program. And Isaac didn't think it was remotely fair that Derek was taking advantage of Stiles like that.

A tech came into the scrub room then, smiling at Isaac as he handed him the scans from Chevy's CT that he had been waiting on before he notified Derek about the patient. He was just starting to look over them when Dr. Tyler, one of the anesthesiologists that regularly worked with Dr. Hale, walked by them, a certain smell invading the intern's nostrils and holding the rest of his olfactory senses hostage.

"Was that-"

"Scotch." The tech nodded. "I smelled it too. It's crazy that he's the best anesthesiologists we have, right? I wouldn't be too worried though, not until he can't do his Sudoku puzzles during surgery."

Shrugging and ultimately ending the conversation, the tech left Isaac alone in the scrub room wondering if he should say anything to anyone. He didn't have long to mull it over because Derek had asked someone else to close and he was exiting the OR, Isaac having to run to catch him.

"Dr. Hale."

"God, I need an expresso." Derek sighed, lazily looking over Isaac. "What is it?"

"Chevy Thames was admitted. She's the little girl with the brain abnormality. Her balance is off, and it looks like she has continuous seizure activity in her left foot."

He took the scans from him, taking in what they the CT results had found. "How old are these?"

"They're from their doctor back home." Isaac admitted. "Three months old."

"There's a pretty decent chance her brain looks completely different than it did back then," Derek sighed again. "I need new ones."

"Alright, I'll get them then."

"Great."

Mimicking Derek's last word, Isaac rolled his eyes as he went to do as he was told, not ready to be spending the entire day with the guy who had interrupted his sleep all night long last night.

Seeing Isaac and Derek walk separate ways from where he was sitting in one of the exam rooms, Stiles shook his head and focused his attention back on the readings from his patient's CTs. Luckily, he also saw Ramsey walking by and got her attention to come and look over the scans.

"What's the matter?"

"Emily Colbert's abdominal CTs."

Taking a second to look them over, Ramsey looked at her intern with questioning eyes. "Is this girl overweight?"

"Not at all." Stiles countered. "She's fairly average."

"Then tell me what you see here."

He sighed. "Her stomach's been stapled. The scans are comparable to that of gastric bypass patients."

"She definitely had the gastric bypass." Ramsey agreed. "But it wasn't one that she's going to be able to live with."

x

With Peter by his side, Scott found Owen to let him know where the stood with his gunshot wound and the consequences from the so-called art form.

"Mr. Silk, this is Dr. Hale." Scott said, introducing them.

"Owen, please." He said, wincing a little bit at the pain that was sure to be coursing through him at that moment. "What's up, Doc?"

"Aside from deciding on whether your actually stupid or you just allowed someone else to do something stupid, my schedule is light compared to what you're going to be dealing with." Peter smiled at him genuinely.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure I'll be fine."

Peter listened to his lungs, not liking what he was hearing as he went ahead and also listened to his heart briefly. "You're running a fever, Owen." He told him as he wrapped his stethoscope back around his neck. "Which is a result of the stress you've put your body through with the gunshot. The bullet ricocheting off your chest caused a hemoneumothorax and fractured a rib."

"Damn." Owen sighed. "That's bad?"

"It's bad, but manageable." Scott smiled down at him. "It means your collapsed lung is full of blood."

"And how are we going to manage that?"

"Dr. McCall here is going to brain the blood by inserting a chest tube and then we're going to work on reflating your lung."

"Sounds somewhat beautiful, almost artful." Owen's eyebrows bobbed in interest. "Is there any way that I can watch?"

x

Stiles lead Mrs. And Mr. Colbert back into Emily's room after giving them the results of the tests he had ran on what was causing their daughter's upset in immune system. They were both pretty upset with her, something she had anticipated, because she opened her mouth before they decided to start screaming at her.

"I know, I know. I should have told you about the surgery. I'm sorry." Emily said, pleading for forgiveness.

"There's a healthy way to go about weight loss, Em." Mr. Colbert told her. "A million different things to go through before you should have even considered something as drastic as bypass surgery. In Mexico, no less!"

"It doesn't work for me like it does for everyone else!" She yelled back. "I've tried and I've tried, but nothing was working so-"

"So you decided to take the easy way out, just like you do with everything else?" Her mother barked. "I'm so over this entire thing, Emily."

"I'm not like you, Mom. My body is different."

"Excuses."

"Alright, alright." Stiles interrupted, stepping in to diminish the attack he knew Emily was feeling at the moment. "I suggest we get back to helping your daughter. And Emily," he looked over her with saturating compassion. "The best the to do is reverse the surgery you had done, and your parents are on board with the reversal of the bypass."

"No!" The decibel of scream emitted from her throat startled Stiles in a way he wasn't expecting could be humanely possible. "No, I don't want to change the bypass."

"This is about your health, Emily." Stiles nodded. "The gastric bypass caused serious complications to your body."

"But I'd rather not have to worry about my weight anymore, so I can focus on school." She looked Stiles warmly in the eyes, begging for his help silently. "I'd rather be skinny."

"You're only seventeen, so it isn't up to you."

He wished he could do something to help her, but her parents were right. She wasn't legal, so the decision wasn't her own. And once she read that in Stiles' dark eyes, she knew that there was no hope over the control of her weight, and with her parents at the helm, maybe her life.

x

"It's called Rasmussen's encephalitis."

Derek, with some help from Isaac, was telling Chevy Thames' parents about the results of her MRI since the CT's weren't as clear as they had been hoping for. But the MRI had caught everything, and they finally knew know what was causing Chevy's tremors.

"What that translates to is that the part of her brain that you see here, the black part? All of that is dead tissue, or on its way to being dead. The scans three months ago didn't show any of this, which is why she's gotten so much worse since you went to the hospital last. If we don't do something soon, the disease is going to kill her."

"Jesus." Mr. Colbert said, covering his mouth in horror.

"What do we do then?" Mrs. Colbert said, her voice shaking with emotion at the thought of her two-year-old dying without treatment. "Can you fix it?"

"The only thing for us to do is take out the diseased portion of her brain and seal it off. Spinal fluid with fill the empty section of the brain cavity, compensating for the area the dead portions were occupying."

"Remove it, like, the entire disease? But isn't that-"

"Half her brain?" Derek nodded, answering Mr. Colbert's question. "Yes. I know it seems impossible, that there's no way she can lead a normal life with that kind of procedure, but her age is what makes this doable. The remaining neurons will make up for the loss of so much brain tissue. If you give the okay, we can start as soon as possible." Derek stood up from his chair, dismissing the scans and reaching out for Mrs. Colbert's shaking hand. "I know how this sounds, but the major thing you should take away from all of this is that we can save her. This operation can work and she'll be the exact same daughter you've always had."

They gave their consent for the surgery, much to the chagrin of the attending who was going to be performing such an extensive operation that he hadn't seen since his years as an intern. It was risky, but exciting. And his own intern looked less than anxious as he had been about the procedure they were going to perform.

"Dr. Lahey?"

"What?"

The dismissal tone in the younger man's voice caused his eyebrows to furrow and concave in on themselves. He wasn't acting like Derek was expecting any eager intern to the news of such a surgery, which was a little alarming.

"Didn't mean to bother you, but if you don't want to scrub in on the hemispherectomy, you don't have to." He shook his head. "So decide whether or not you want in."

"In. Definitely in." Isaac nodded.

"That's better." He made a mental note to figure out what exactly was Isaac's problem with him when the timing was a little bit better than it currently was. "Go ahead and start the work up. I'll see you in the OR."

Walking away, Derek left to prepare for the huge surgery, hoping that he could keep his promise to the parents and give them back the daughter they had always known without further complications.

Feeling a lot better about working with Derek now that he was getting a crazy cool surgery to scrub in on, Isaac felt like he was floating on air. He was walking across the skywalk when he noticed Scott leaning against the railing, munching on a cookie he had gotten by the food cart a few feet away.

"Guess who's scrubbing in on Hale's hemispherectomy?"

Scott's reaction of wide eyes and loose jaw weren't surprising to her fellow intern. "Seriously?"

"It's crazy." He nodded. "We're going to cut a girl's brain in half, and she's going to be fine." Dawning on him suddenly, he sighed. "Which is making it really hard to stay mad at him."

"Why are you mad a Derek?" Scott pondered aloud.

"Nothing, nothing important."

"Did you finally find out about him and Stiles?"

"What? You know!?"

Rolling his eyes at the high pitch of Isaac's voice, Scott just shook his head and started to make his way back over to the food cart at the end of the skywalk. "You should know by now that I can get anything out of Stiles."

Since she was waiting on her patient's food to digest before she performed her procedure on the guy that had downed his girlfriend's keys, Allison found them then, grabbing a slice of pound cake from the food cart, handing the guy some money while Isaac's stretched in surprise eyes glued onto her.

"He knows."

"About Sterek?"

"Sterek?" Isaac wasn't familiar with what Allison was saying.

"It's their ship name." She rolled her eyes. "I hate that I came up with such a ridiculous one, but it works."

"It's been going on for, like, ever." Scott continued. "It never stopped, really."

"You're joking." Allison gawked in disbelief.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Stiles works hard all day, especially lately. He's got to unwind somehow, and we shouldn't care how he decided to do so." He explained to his friends while they grabbed some coffee from the cart, paying them man quickly as they started to amble back down the skywalk. "Some people like to knock back a few. You've even taken to baking now that Isaac's taught you the basics. Others like to share an orgasm with a hot surgeon."

"Who's getting orgasms with surgeons?" Munching on saltines to help subside her flu influenced symptoms, Lydia marched up to them and got into step with them pretty quickly.

"Damn, Martin." Isaac laughed. "You look like you need to be taken care of. Peter's got to be around here somewhere."

"Why are we friends with you?" Lydia scoffed, eating more of her saltines instead of really investing in listening to Isaac's, though true, misguided implications.

"Speaking of drinking," Isaac decided to change the subject. "I think Derek's anesthesiologist…I smelt alcohol earlier. He wouldn't be bold enough to drink on the job, right?"

"Don't get involved, Lahey. Bad idea." Lydia told him. "I gotta go. The thought of alcohol has me…" Feeling insolvably queasy, Lydia grabbed her stomach. "Nauseous."

Laughing at her misfortunate, her friends just cackled and viewed the great spectacle that was Lydia Martin running for a bathroom yet again, while they dispersed and got back to the cases that were threatening to overtake their senses for the day.

x

Unaware that his friends new everything about his "secret" relationship with Derek, Stiles was in Emily's surgery with Dr. Ramsey. He was assisting the resident with the reversal of the Mexican gastric bypass she had gotten. Stiles was handling the bowel, making sure to handle it carefully.

"It's full of gunk," Ramsey told him as she went back to resecting the organ while he held onto it. "So be cautious."

"Right."

"What was she thinking? All of this for weight loss?"

Shaking his head, Stiles scoffed. "She's dying for her mother's praise. It's the reason she even thought about the surgery in the first place."

"A parent's praise isn't worth this damage. Here, resect that."

Once he was handed the bovie, Stiles quickly worked on obliging his resident's request. After only a few minutes, he was finished and handed the bowel back to Ramsey with professional ease.

"When you're done assisting, you have a stack of post-ops waiting for you."

There was no way he wasn't up to date on the latest torture she was having him take as a consequence for being caught with Derek at the party. So he just gave her an acknowledgement that he understood. "I'll get to them."

"You also need to pick up the extra work around the clinic since Lydia has the flu."

"Look, I'll jump through your hoops, alright. Just tell me how high to jump."

Everyone in the room, including Ramsey herself, glanced over him for a beat before anyone dared to even move. Not many people got to sass Dr. Helena Ramsey and lived to divvy out the bragging rights about having done so. In fact, no amount of people ever had the honor of surviving through her rage to accomplish such a feat.

Knowing that he had misspoke, Stiles sighed deeply into his mask and shook his head. "I'm sorry. That wasn't right."

"It's not the only thing that isn't right." The glare he received was off the charts with hostility. "Since it's already on the table, would you like to explain what your exact plans are about your act of misconduct?"

"I already told you, I'll take your hoops with stride, but what I do outside the walls of the hospital are my business." Getting very defensive about the fact that his boss could not only get him in trouble but also Derek, Stiles went on, deciding to not hold back his true feelings. "I made a decision and I understand that you can't respect me for what I choose to do, but I'll deal with the fallout."

"Well then, I'll have plenty of hoops for you to jump through."

"Everything you've asked me to do has been done, without question or complaint." His turned his head to lock eyes with his boss, truly feeling like he had every right to stand up for himself and what he believed could amount to something great. He wasn't letting anyone get in the way of that know that he knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was Derek. If and when there's something else you'd like to throw at me, Dr. Ramsey, I can take it. I'm here for it. You don't have to agree with what I'm doing, so don't be afraid to bring it on."

Emily's already sensitive bowel decided that Stiles wasn't having the best experience that day as a doctor, so it decided to choose that moment to burst on a massive level, toxic waste splattering all over Stiles' face and chest, still hitting flesh that was exposed despite having protective wear on.

"We can attempt to repair the organ," Ramsey said, glad that her mask was hiding her wicked Cheshire Cat grin. "Now that you've drained the organ."

"Now my day is complete."

x

"Thanks for this chance, Dr. Hale." Isaac said as he finished scrubbing in for Chevy Thames' hemispherectomy. He was trying to put his feelings about being lied to aside, considering that Stiles had lied to him and not Derek, and was truly appreciating the fact that he was given such an amazing gift of participating in this once-in-a-lifetime surgery. "I really do appreciate it."

"You've done the work. Rewards are earned here, Lahey." Derek smiled at him as a nurse came up to him, handing him an expresso shot, his eyes welling as he looked at her with admiration. "I love you. Honestly, I do."

On the way inside the OR, Isaac passed Dr. Tyler again, the anesthesiologist from before. He thought he smelt the liquor again, but he brushed it aside like his earlier problems with Derek. He didn't need to put his career in jeopardy based on an observation that he still wasn't sure was justified.

"Big day for you," Dr. Tyler said, his breath potent enough to be caught on fire. "Not every day we see a hemispherectomy."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Tyler," He was going to regret this, he just knew it. Isaac knew that much, even though it was the right thing to do. Doing the right thing was going to backfire on him. It always did. "Dr. Hale, he…" He glanced at Derek, who just looked on curiously at the exchange in front of him. "Dr. Tyler, have you been drinking?"

"Excuse me?"

"I smell it on you, your breath." Isaac nodded. "Scotch. I smell the scotch."

"Isaac-"

"There's a two-year-old girl on this table." He stopped the lecture he knew Derek was about to initiate to him. "We have responsibilities and if there's a chance…"

"I don't need some brand new doctor telling me what responsibilities we have." Dr. Tyler rebutted. "And I don't take too kindly to false accusations. I wouldn't be here if I didn't understand the risks and were fully prepared to do my job."

"You're out of line." Derek said, still unsure of which one was telling the truth. But, there was a code among doctors to not ask about stuff like that, so he had no choice but to kick Isaac out of the surgery. "Isaac, you can watch from the gallery."

The intern left in a fury of feelings, under the assumption that Derek just didn't take his word for it. Which was all the more frustrating because if he wanted to, Isaac had the power to out his relationship with Stiles and they'd have to take at least one of his claims seriously. But he couldn't do that to Stiles, especially after everything he had done to Allison. So he left without dispute. Derek, scrutinizing Dr. Tyler with his keen eyes, walked over to him closely so that no one could hear them.

"You better not be lying to me."

x

Allison was completely done with her patient and his girlfriend. She was finally working on removing the keys from his throat, and all Arta was doing was yelling at PK for his wrongdoings throughout the entirety of their tumultuous relationship.

"I should have walked away when your mother was the one behind those calls you had me convinced were coming from other women." Arta displayed their dirty laundry for Allison and the two people helping oversee the small procedure to see in all its flaming wreckage glory. "Or I should have walked away when you called my therapist pretending to be your therapist, just to see what I was saying about you." Arta cursed. "You have no respect for me! None at all for everything I've done for you. And that's why this, this, is the last thing I'm doing for you. After this, I'm finally walking away."

During the small operation, PK was struggling to breathe since Allison had the scope down his throat, trying to get a hold of the keys. He couldn't say anything back to what she was screaming at him, but Allison could.

"Alright, Arta, that's enough. I need him to hold still and I let you stay in here so you could help him stay calm."

"How can I help him after everything he's put me through. This is just the tip of the iceberg of the messes he's made me clean up, for years!"

He started to choke, really choke, as the keys dislodged themselves and moved further down his throat. Allison shifted the scope to keep the keys from falling any more.

"What? What just happened?"

"The keys fell. Now can you please be quiet so I can concentrate?"

Finding serene in the newfound quiet of the room, Allison finally got a hold of the keys. "There." She slowly, so she wouldn't further agitate PK's throat, pulled back on the scope until PK started coughing from the empty feeling in his throat now, Arta's keys out of her boyfriend as Allison threw them in some water to wash off.

"Great work, PK. You did great."

"You bastard." Arta swore. "You caused them to fall on purpose, didn't you!?"

"Can I offer some advice?" Allison grabbed the keys and held them up for Arta to see, perfectly shiny and void of boyfriend casing. "Do us all a favor, and walk away. For good."

"You'll never find the place where I left it." PK struggled to say, a mischievous glint to his eyes.

Arta took the keys and stormed off, a sigh escaping from Allison's lips as she finished her one case of the day, ready to move onto something else that actually resembled medicine.

x

Ramsey and Stiles were walking down the hall towards the interns' locker room, where Stiles was seeking refuge. His patient's insides were still in his hair, and he smelt like actual garbage.

"I've never needed a shower so bad." Stiles said aloud, not really to his resident but needing to mentioning it regardless.

"I need a shower." Ramsey stated. "You should go back at tell the parents what kind of daughter they have now."

"I can't shower?"

"That would be a hoop, wouldn't it?"

Nodding and scoffing at the same time, Stiles just agreed with her. "Yeah, I suppose it would be."

Enjoying the look of defeat on his face, Ramsey laughed a little bit. Something that already made Stiles think that Hell had frozen over. "You can shower first, then deliver the news."

Turning into the locker room, Stiles saw Ramsey continue down the hall as he walked in. He passed Allison as he went for something in his locker, seeing the scrunched up look on her face as he made his way over to the back of the room, where a few showers were located. He sat on the bench, kicking off his shoes, when he saw Lydia laying down on the opposite bench, succumbing to her flu once and for all.

"What is that smell?" Lydia huffed.

"Me." Stiles sighed. "Well, my patient's insides all over me."

"Karma." Allison smiled.

"What does karma have to do with anything?"

"Nothing." She told Stiles, Allison not wanting to get into it with Stiles about the Derek situation just yet. "It makes me strangely happy. You look like a CSI victim. I'm just saying, karma's a bitch."

Slicing the small silence between the three of them as Allison put up her hair, Ramsey barged into the room, finding them and looking like she needed something really important from her interns. Which was always, but it still piqued their interest.

"Hale, Nephew Hale, needs an intern. Who's free?"

Both Allison and Lydia stood up immediately, ready to be chosen while Stiles remained on the bench, not really worried about a surgery when he still smelt like one.

"I'm ready, Dr. Ramsey." Lydia sniffled.

"You need to rest on that flu out of you." Ramsey chuckled, glossing her eyes over until their fell on Stiles. "You up to it, Stilinski?"

Allison scoffed. "Naturally."

"What the hell is your problem?" Stiles called her out, tired of the way she had been acting ever since he had walked into the locker room.

"You are my problem." Not needing to keep any modesty anymore, Allison released the full force of her candor. "Because obviously, you can service Dr. McDreamy in ways the rest of us can't."

"Whoa, you didn't-"

"Yes, I sure did."

"Hey!" Ramsey shouted over the two of them, annoyed at the disturbance her interns were causing her to create. "Martin, hemispherectomy in OR 1. Go."

She left quickly with Allison following quickly after her, not wanting to be in the same room with Stiles for another second longer. He flopped his head back against the wall, knowing that his roommates, or at least one of them, knew about him and Derek.

"Apparently," Ramsey slithered over, joy in her eyes. "I'm not the only one with hoops."

x

Lydia was psyched to be in on Derek's surgery. She didn't care about the drama that the other interns were facing with Stiles and Derek seeing each other or casually having sex together or whatever the hell it was they were doing. She was sort of doing the same thing, even though no one knew it, so it wasn't her place to cast judgment.

"From the frontal lobectomy, I'm then going to see what, Dr. Martin?"

Even as Lydia answered his inquiry correctly, Derek noticed that Chevy was starting to blink herself awake. "We'll encounter the anterior cerebral artery."

"Uh, right, and we're going to…" There, he saw it again. He couldn't look up to see what Dr. Tyler was doing with the anesthesia, so he kept working as he piped up. "Tyler, her anesthesia looks like it's waning." Chevy continued to blink, her head turning to the left as the gas started to leave her system. "Jesus, she's waking up. Tyler? Dr. Tyler?"

Taking the initiative, Lydia let go of one of the instruments she was holding, giving it back to Derek as carefully as she could when it came to holding an instrument connected to the brain. "Dr. Tyler?" She walked over to where he was sitting, but he didn't notice her.

"Oh my God…he's asleep!"

"Tyler!" Derek yelled, elevating his voice dangerously loud. "Dr. Tyler!"

That finally ended the cat-nap slumber of the anesthesiologist, startled by the blundering noise of Derek's vehement screams. He looked over and saw that Chevy was waking up, sliding his chair over to his machine to get the gas under control.

"Oh, sorry. That's my fault. My bad, Hale."

It was quite clear to Derek what was going on. And he was too mad to care about any codes or whatever else was holding back the actions he wanted to perform. "Lahey was right, wasn't he?"

"Please." Tyler scoffed. "I just nodded off for a little bit."

"Right, whatever gets you're through the day, hmm?"

"It won't happen again. I swear."

"You're right about that. Leena," Derek looked over at one of his scrub nurses. "Page Dr. Luddington, take over until she gets here. Get out of here, Tyler. Pull yourself together on your way out."

Chevy's surgery went on without Dr. Tyler without a hitch, and Derek knew what he had to do once he told resident that was in on the surgery with him to close. He took off his mask, searching the gallery for Isaac when Lydia did the same.

"That was amazing." She said, her voice feeble with awe. "I felt sick all day long until this and…thank you for that." Lydia smiled.

"I was exhausted. Now I'm exhausted again. Back to coffee." He finally found Isaac standing by the door of the gallery, gesturing up to the room for him to meet him once the attending left the OR.

He found him just outside the scrub room, awaiting the reasoning for their impromptu rendezvous. Isaac just stared at him once Derek was there, not really knowing what to do with him calling him down here.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not." The attending disagreed, knowing that he was in the wrong this time. "There's a code among doctors, that we don't ask about things that's not related to medicine…"

"I understand, I was out of line."

He went to leave, but Derek's voice cut the action off. "You weren't, I was." Spinning on his heels, Isaac wasn't sure he heard him right. But Derek went on, not giving him the chance to question it. "It should have been me. It should have been the attending doing the cutting to take responsibility. You didn't' deserve to be thrown out of the OR today. You did the right thing, code or no code."

Extending out a hand, Derek waiting for Isaac to take it. With some initial hesitation, Isaac gave him a tiny grin and shook his hand accordingly. Isaac thought that they were on good terms again, but he saw this look in Derek's eyes that said he wasn't sure of the same sentiment.

"You saw me leaving the house this morning."

"That was you?" he feigned ignorance, but Derek didn't but that either.

"I'm not favoring him, if that's what you think." He said, fully aware that it was the infinite truth. "He's talented, he's a good doctor. But I'm not using him."

"He's just really…good, alright? Don't mess it up."

"Mmm." Derek smiled, satisfied with the conclusion of their conversation as they let go of each other's hands, looking down at the younger man with a sharp brow. "Come on, let's go give Chevy's parents the good news."

x

"What happened?"

Scott had no idea. Owen Silk's vitals were plummeting rapidly as Peter ran over. Everything was fine. They had extracted the bullet from his chest cavity and drained the blood from his lungs. Something else was wrong. Something that they hadn't caught in time. And Scott was terrified when he realized what it was.

"Multi-system organ failure, secondary to overwhelming sepsis." Scott breathed on in horror.

"Let's fix his BP, that should help his mental status." Peter told him.

"He's had all the pressors he can." Owen's machine's blared once again, Scott staring, not believing what the readings were telling him. "V-tach."

"Defib pads on him, now!" Peter ordered. "Someone give him 150 of amnioterone. Charge to 200."

He had everything right. Owen was fine the last time he checked on him. There was something he was missing. Scott pulled up on Owen's sheets, seeing a freshly inked tattoo on his leg, one that was swollen and totally infected. "Dr. Hale, it's sepsis from infection." Worry pounded against his temples. "I didn't know; he didn't complain about the pain at all."

"It's not your fault, McCall. Charge to 200! Clear."

But it was too late. Owen had mistaken his threshold for pain, and ultimately fell victim to his high pain tolerance. Peter shocked him again at 300, but they both knew what was going on. The flatline taunted both of them, as well as the nurses and other employees around them. Scott looked to Peter, hoping that he was going to say anything besides what he knew the next words out of his mouth we're going to be.

"Time of death, twenty-four-oh-nine."

x

After telling Emily that she was never going to have proper nutrition for the rest of her life, only for her to be glad that she'd stay skinny forever, Stiles finally made his way home. He hadn't waited on Derek since he was still dealing with a patient, but since his friends apparently knew about them, he'd already invited him back over.

When he got there, Allison was the only one home. She was putting the last efforts of icing on cake she had made to work out her frustrations, something Isaac had taught her how to do just a couple weeks ago.

"I figured you'd be upstairs asleep."

Allison just shook her head, taking on a little laugh as Stiles set his bag down on the kitchen floor. He went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, swiftly popping the cap and taking a large sufficient gulp of the contents inside.

"If you wait to drink that, you can use milk to wash down a slice of cake, baked full of love." She thought on those words, knowing they weren't right and that they needed amending. "Actually, it was made full of anger and all-consuming fury, but it doesn't taste like rage."

Stiles just leaned on the counter, taking another small sip of his beer. "You know."

"I know."

"Alright. So do you want the long, drawn out version or the short version who's summary is that I started sleeping with a guy who turned out to be my boss?"

"Neither. I know you slept with Derek the first time. I'm just annoyed that you kept doing it and didn't tell us."

"Allison, can't you just let me explain myself and-"

"No, I can't!" Her elevation of volume elicited another swallow of alcohol for Stiles. "Your parents are phenomenal surgeons, you went to Dartmouth, you live in this huge house!" Heaving, Allison steadied herself so that her words wouldn't falter. "I got through medical school by posing in my underwear. When I enter the OR, people pray that I'm the nurse." She paused to scoff at the act that had happened to her more than once upon starting at Seattle Grace. "So no, there's not an explanation that I'll accept for the simple fact that you already have everyone's respect without even trying. And you're throwing it away for, what? Surgeries? Some vocal-chord-destroying sex? Honestly, Stiles, what are you even doing?" She stared at him, ignoring the fact the he was rolling his eyes as he came over to the counter and sat down next to where she was standing. That's when she realized it and slowly sat down herself. "Oh, God. You're falling for him."

"I am not."

"You so are." Allison sipped on the glass of milk she had poured herself before Stiles' arrival home. "You poor, boss-loving fool."

"It's just that…he's so perfectly…and I'm trying to…" Stiles was really sucking at explaining himself and he knew it. But he couldn't come out and say that there wasn't truth to Allison's declaration.

"You're all full of secret feelings. You're doomed." Allison slide over her milk and a piece of cake she had already prepared.

He started picking at it the cake, abandoning his beer to sip on the milk after he took a bite. After taking a second bite of the cake, Stiles lightly slammed down his fists on the counter, annoyed at Allison and her magical talk-about-your-feelings cake and how delicious it was. "I hate you." She laughed at him, throwing her head back at his faux admission. "And your cake."

"Don't blame the cake, the cake is good." She nodded, feeling like the storm between them had brewed and the worst of it was finally all over now that Allison knew Stiles was with Derek for more personal circumstances. "Uh, so, tell me; How hot is the sex?"

He almost choked on his cake. "Allison!"

"What?! You know I'm not getting any. Just give me a couple details to picture later."

"You're awful."

They laughed together, sharing a small hug before Stiles retreated upstairs. When he was fixing the bed for his impending sleep that was so desperately needed, Derek walked into his bedroom, dropping his stuff on the floor as he closed the door.

"Allison let me in."

"Yeah. We've been found out."

"I know. They saw me leave this morning."

Sighing at the hardships he faced that day, Stiles just looked at Derek longingly, wanting to jump his right then and there for the fact that they didn't have to hide anymore. It was definitely a reason to celebrate, but after the day he had had, he just wanted to lay down and rest.

"Do you mind if we just-"

"Sleep?" Derek begged, his tone full of hope.

"Yeah?"

"Only if you want to." Stiles could tell by the way Derek said it that he had had a tiring day as well, and needed the reprieve just as much as he did.

"Thank God."

Shedding their clothes, Stiles and Derek crawled into bed, cuddling up to one another eagerly. Derek sprawled out on the bed as Stiles laid his head on his bare chest and they both almost instantly fell asleep, their bodies falling into the deep rest they craved after the obstacles that had made up their work schedules.

x

She knew that they had made plans to meet in the on-call room, but Lydia wasn't there when Peter had, assumingly, checked to see where she was. She wanted more than anything to be with Peter behind closed doors and continue doing whatever it was that they were doing, but she was behind a different set of doors.

The woman's bathroom to be specific. And for once during the flu-induced day she had endured, it wasn't because she was throwing up. It was because she had a feeling later in the day that she should check something, something that had been nagging at her in the back of her mind all day. And after taking three tests, just to make sure it wasn't some sort of flu created hallucinations, she was sure.

Lydia was pregnant.


	8. Wait For It...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A psychic sets the hospital amok with his readings about the short lived future, including the knowledge of Lydia's pregnancy when she's assigned to him, which leads her to switch cases, only to be handed a case of a pregnant woman with severe cancer. Stiles and Derek work closely on a man who suddenly can't move his limbs, all while the former begs for more intel on Derek's life before moving to Seattle. Allison finds comfort in the psychic's musings in regards to her mysterious family life.

It was the small stuff that Stiles loved about being with Derek. Kissing him goodbye every morning before they stepped out of the elevator and onto the surgical floor. Showering together and running his hands over his body. Or even something small like he was doing right now, which was watching Derek get dressed for the day.

"What?"

"Nothing." Stiles beamed at him. "You're just…you."

Derek returned the show of happiness, reaching for Stiles' hand so that he could lead him downstairs where his friends were waiting for them to have breakfast, which the older man desperately wanted and needed.

In the kitchen, Allison was getting frustrated with herself. Ever since she'd nailed her attempt at making a scrumptious cake, she'd been trying to recreate a recipe her father had made when she was little. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the cupcakes to taste right. Isaac wasn't complaining though, because he was getting cupcakes for breakfast.

"Forty cupcakes, and I still don't have the recipe right. I don't know what else it's missing, I followed the recipe, just like I remember it." Allison sighed.

"Is it possible you forgot one?" Isaac said past the mouthful of chocolate cupcakes.

"Of course it is, but I can't figure it out."

"Or…just a suggestion, you could just call your dad and ask."

"I'm not talking to my father."

Back inside the bathroom, Stiles was hanging in the doorway while Derek brushed his teeth, continuing to get ready for the day.

"Are you going to stand there and watch me eat my breakfast too?" Derek smiled, spitting into the sink before brushing his teeth further.

"We should go to your house tonight."

Stopping in his tracks, Derek looked up in the mirror and stared at Stiles, his mouth foamy from the toothpaste. "What?"

"Everyone knows about us now, at least everyone that needs to know." Stiles went on. "We always sleep at my place, and that's not me complaining because I obviously enjoy having you here."

"But?"

"But do you even have a place? A house or apartment or something where you have your clothes and personal belongings. Why aren't we staying over at your place?"

The brain surgeon decided to ignore him as he completed the act of brushing his teeth, and kept silent about the issue the entire time Stiles and Derek walked toward the kitchen, where they saw Allison tossing a huge heap of chocolate cupcakes into the trash can, clearly frustrated as she muttered to herself.

"Morning."

"Good morning." Isaac said, Stiles glad that both of his roommates had adjusted so well to him seeing Derek, as well as seeing him there in the mornings now. "Don't mind her, the cupcakes are still awesome." He spoke behind another clump of cupcake in his mouth, doing nothing to stop himself for enjoying the luscious chocolate.

"No thanks. I can't get eat chocolate before the sun rises." Derek shook his head.

"You're a health nut, aren't you?"

Laughing, Derek shook his head. "Not at all. I used to be overweight when I was growing up, so I just have to be careful not to fall back into old vices."

"See? I should know things like this." Stiles nodded toward him.

"Can't we just have a nice breakfast this morning?" He went over to the cabinet and started to pour Stiles and himself a bowl of Life cereal, putting in one tablespoon of sugar in Stiles', just the way he liked it before he returned to the kitchen table and sat down in front of his intern turned boyfriend.

Stiles sat down, letting go of his questions and wonderings on details of Derek's life and graciously decided to eat the cereal in quiet.

"Still though," Isaac added. "You eat Life cereal, no sugar, add raisins, every single morning. That's a health obsessed breakfast to me."

"What? No way."

"The cereal thing? It's true." Allison started to throw some of the pans she had dirtied in her attempts to make cupcakes into the dishwasher. "The past week at least."

"I haven't been here that long." Thinking about it for a few seconds, Derek turned to Stiles inquisitively. "Have I?"

"Even they think it's weird that we're here so much."

Sharing a smile between each other, Stiles and Derek went about munching on their cereal, avoiding the topic they needed to discuss with each other, but saving it for another time so they could make it to work and everything that came along with getting to the hospital early enough to accurately achieve success for the day as a surgeon.

x

She felt completely out of place as she waited for the woman to re-enter the office. Lydia wasn't ready for the responsibilities or intricacies that came along with pregnancy, and she was having it dealt with before it even became an issue. Finally, the door to the small little room opened like the mouth of a cave as the woman came back to reside behind her desk.

"Alright, I've checked the schedule and-"

"Yeah, so on the ninth, I start ENT." Lydia stepped in. "Can we do it then?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, we can't. We do have openings on the sixteenth, but you have to know that there's other options. Adoption, keeping the baby. There's all sorts of resources for you to help you before you result to termination for-"

"The helpful part? I'm not interested. I'll rearrange my schedule and I'll make the sixteenth happen."

Lydia got up and left the office then, knowing that she didn't have or want any other options when she was pregnant with her boss' baby.

x

A little later in the morning, Stiles and Lydia were consulting on a patient together that they had sent down from psychology. The intern previously assigned to the man was standing there with them as they looked over his x-rays.

"Yeah, this is still Psych." Lydia said as she looked over at him. "There's no reason for him to be down on the surgical floor."

"He's yours now. This guy has had three seizures in the past two days. You're welcome."

The intern went to leave, but Stiles quickly ran in front of the door and blocked his exit. "Whoa, where are you going? It says right here in his chart that he talks to the dead and his family is worried about hurting himself so they got him committed." Stiles shook his head. "She's right, this isn't Neuro, it's Psych."

"Not my problem, doctors. We can't take him back to Psych until you clear him. He thinks his seizures are visions. Page me when he's cleared and I'll take him back up to Psych."

"I'm psychic!" The patient cried from his room across the hall. "They're not seizures."

"Of course, sir." Lydia rolled her eyes. "I'll just start calling you Raven Symone." The intern took the moment to slip out of the room, giving them no option but to stay stranded with the patient who thought he could see into the future.

"Alright, Mr. Hough," Stiles said as they reluctantly made their way into the patient's room. "We're going to start your work up now, if you're ready."

"That's fine, but I'm telling you, I'm psychic. I have visions. It's real." His eyes glossed over in a split second, causing both of them to look at each other.

"Mr. Hough?" Stiles said, a little worried. "Are you having another seizure?"

"Fourth floor."

"What about the fourth floor?" Lydia sighed.

"There's going to be a code blue on the fourth floor." Mr. Hough explained, his eyes returning to normal as he looked up at them. "Everyone's going to try and save him, but it'll be too late."

Stiles and Lydia both didn't believe him, obviously, but then they heard a message loudly blasting over the PA system, saying that there was a code blue on the fourth floor and help was needed immediately. A slew of doctors ran past the room then, Stiles and Lydia staring at each other with ethereal features before looking back at Mr. Hough, who was just smiling at waving at them to depart from his room.

x

It didn't take long for the entire hospital to hear about that fact that there was a self-professed psychic around the halls of Seattle Grace Hospital. Everyone either wanted to go to his room and ask him questions about the future or wanted to have him transferred to a different hospital for being a false soothsayer. Scott found Lydia standing next to the nurse's station working on some charting when he plopped next to her, leaning on the counter in front of them.

"How crazy is it that he was right? Right?"

"Scott, people die on the fourth floor all the time." Lydia sighed, not having them time to deal with his talks of miracles and wonders of the world scenarios. "The ICU is on the fourth floor."

"I'm just saying, he predicted it and it happened second before anyone knew what was going on."

"The sixteenth I need someone to cover my shift. Can you do it?"

He was surprised by the abrupt change in conversation so quickly. "What? Why?"

"None of your business why, are you up to cover me or what?"

"I mean, sure, but-"

"Thanks."

Lydia left in a blur then, stopping the further round of questioning that was sure to spew forth from Scott's mouth like a fountain of inquiries and raised eyebrows.

x

It was such a rare occasion for Stiles and Derek to walk down the halls of the hospital together and have an actual conversation without either of them afraid of who would overhear them or see them talking to each other a little more than professionally. They were walking across the skywalk when Stiles took a turn in their dialogue.

"Derek, I feel like I barely know you. Aside for the fact that you love the bumper car position."

He threw his head back in immediate laughter, making sure no one was around to here Stiles' confession, even if it was absolutely true. "You know plenty. I like ferry boats and moved here from California."

"Liking ferry boats isn't a worthwhile quality." Stiles buffered. "Do you even have any friends that aren't working at this hospital?"

"And you do?"

"Okay, bad example. I just want to know more. We're having sex on a nightly basis, I think I've earned a few more details than where you used to live. Like what do you spend your days off doing? What do you like to do to wind down or where do you go to hang out away from being a doctor? These are questions that I should know if we're having sex together every night."

"Stiles, you know enough. Go with it."

"I don't like this." Stiles stopped on the skywalk, Derek turning around to face him at the abrupt halting of their trek across the platform. "This is going to a weird dark and twisty place. I deserve some answers, Derek, and until you feel comfortable to tell me, then no more bumper cars for you."

Seductively, Derek edged closer to the younger man. It was like Stiles could feel the body heart emanating from the sculpted-to-perfection frame in front of him.

"If I remember correctly, you enjoyed the bumper cars last time. Practically begged for it."

"Derek."

"Can't you just go with the flow? We're having amazing, unmatchable sex. Isn't that enough?"

Blushing, Stiles just shook his head with the remnants of a smile tainting his lips. "I need more. I'm not just gonna bend over and take this."

Rolling with hysteria, Derek laughed and shook his head negatively. "See, there, I disagree. You're actually very good at that."

"Missing the point!"

"Missing my consult, so I gotta go." Derek cackled again. "Go with it, this is fun. See where it leads."

He started to walk away then, but Stiles kept talking. "I don't to see where it leads." Derek really began to stroll across the skywalk then, causing Stiles to yell his next sentence. "I'll go willingly when I feel like being lead!"

Knowing that he sounded like an idiot, Stiles gave up and ran off the skywalk for a more secluded area where people weren't beginning to stare at him like he was ready to be admitted to a bed in Psych, hoping that Derek would understand where he was coming from before Stiles got another itch that only Derek could possibly scratch.

x

Unfortunately assigned to the psychic case, Lydia was finding it harder than usual to provide her best bedside manner to the basket case. She wasn't the best with it to begin with, but a patient claiming to know the short future? She didn't have time for such nonsense.

"You know, I hear Botox can help with those unsightly mean lines."

Lydia just threw Mr. Hough a venom-filled death stare. "Stop talking."

"Is that an appropriate way to address a patient?" he laughed sarcastically.

"You have epilepsy. Your temporal lobe is spiking when you have your episodes. You have a seizure disorder, not visions."

"It's not seizures! I'm telling you, the MRI will show that I'm just…"

He stopped then, just glancing at her like he could see completely through her, like she was made of glass.

"Mr. Hough? Are you having another seizure?"

And just like that, he locked on her eyes, smiling with devilish detail.

"When's the due date, Dr. Mommy?"

Lydia's eyes grew like suspicion among a hoard of criminals. "What did you say?"

"I told you, I'm psychic." Mr. Hough scoffed. "And this baby thing? You can't just forget about it."

Grabbing his chart, Lydia fled from the psychic patient's room, needing to get away from someone who knew her secret, something she hadn't even told the baby's father. And she had no intention of doing so if she had a choice in the matter.

x

Examining a patient, Derek was doing his best to try and accurately assess the problems that incapacitated his patient for the time being. He was rolling an instrument against his patient's leg.

"Can you feel that, Mr. Runner?"

"Nothing." He replied. "Oh, God, that's bad, isn't it?"

"What about your toes? Try moving them."

He did as instructed, but nothing happened.

"They're moving right?"

"No. No, they're not."

"What's going on, Doctor? I can't feel anything below my thigh."

"We're going to try and figure it out, Mr. Runner. Let's just try and remain calm until we have reason to react differently." Derek leaned over to the nurse nearby, making sure to keep his voice low enough so Mr. Runner couldn't hear him. "Schedule and MRI, quick. Can you send me an intern to meet him there? Make it Stilinski."

"Yes, Doctor."

Smiling a little bit to himself, Derek left the patient to do some research that could possibly help him regain feeling in his legs again.

x

Rounding a corner, Lydia was on a warpath to find Dr. Ramsey. There was no way she was going to be stuck with the self-proclaimed psychic all day, not when he could blab to someone at any second that she was pregnant. Not that she for a second believed that he was accurately psychic, even if she couldn't pinpoint exactly how he had found out about her pregnancy.

She was glad to see Ramsey with Allison when the elevator at the end of the hall slid open to reveal their respective frames.

"Good, I've found you." Lydia nodded. "I need off the psychic guy. Please let me switch. I'll take anything."

"I don't recall being a waiter." Ramsey looked to Allison. "Do you remember me becoming a waiter, Argent?"

"Uh, no ma'am?"

"I'll do your post-op notes. For a month without question. Please, just let me switch."

"I'll take him." Allison nodded. "I don't mind."

Ramsey, realizing that Lydia was dead set on getting off her current case, just sighed and gestured wildly. "Fine, but only because you're agreeing to do my work." Lydia exclaimed a little bit with a curt dip of her head while Allison just took the chart from her. "Allison, you get Mr. Hough." The brunette left in a blur then, ready to arm herself with the ins and outs of her patient so she could get up to speed with his current care. "Martin, you're sticking with me. Our patient has breast cancer. You'll need to do a pelvic, with all the spotting. She's pregnant."

Her resident walking away, Lydia stopped dead in her tracks when she realized that not only did Mr. Hough know that she was pregnant, but he probably knew that she was going to get stuck with another patient that was also pregnant. She was afraid she really wouldn't be able to escape that fact that her womb was occupied, but that wasn't going to stop Lydia as she stomped away, intent on burying herself in work to forget everything that she had to deal with.

x

Answering his page, Derek walked into the observation room overlooking the MRI room, smiling down at Stiles as he pulled up Mr. Runner's scans.

"Films are clear." Stiles nodded, pointing toward the screen of the computer he sat behind. "His creeping paralysis isn't being caused by anything in his head."

Derek scoffed. "I was sure we'd see something, something to explain what's going on. A bony spur in the nucleus pulposus or an intrusion into the spinal space."

"Well, there isn't. You're wrong." He glanced at the attending knowingly. "You don't always get an explanation to the things you want to know."

"Are we really doing this again?" Derek chuckled.

"There's got to be something you can give me."

"Oh, there's plenty, but we're working."

Stiles ignored the smirk on Derek's face. "I'm serious. Details, Derek. Like, what are your granparents' names?"

"Don't have any, they're dead."

"What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? Where'd you grow up? Where do you go when you think of the perfect summer vacation?"

"These are the questions that are bothering you?"

"Stop avoiding this." Stiles laughed a little. "I just want to know you."

"Lighten up, Stiles." Derek gestured to the flushed look on the interns' face. "It'll do great things for your, I'm sure, spiking blood pressure right now."

Without another word, Derek left the room, leaving Stiles to yell from the observation room.

"We're not done talking, Dr. Hale!"

x

Inside the woman's room, Lydia and Ramsey were discussing some recent lab results with their patient that was pregnant. The woman's husband was looking frantic, glancing around the room for an answer that he knew he couldn't find.

"There's no alternatives we can go through? No other options to explore?"

"You're only options with this stage of invasive carcinoma are chemo, radiation, surgery, and drug therapy." Lydia explained to him in a very WEB MD sort of way, not really emotionally invested in the words she was telling them.

"What about my pregnancy? Can't we wait until I've given birth?"

"Unfortunately, the pregnancy hormones are very susceptible to speeding the growth of the cancer on a massive level." Lydia nodded again. "None of your options will allow the baby to make it through the full term of your pregnancy."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Mirrow, but you're going to have to come to a decision as to how you want to proceed." Ramsey nodded.

"So that's it? I have to choose between my own life and my unborn baby's?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Mirrow was a fit of rage and tears, unable to give either of them an accurate answer to their decision right then. Lydia and Ramsey left the room, telling them that they could take as long as they needed to decided what to do. Lydia knew what she was do, what she was doing, and it was clear for her. How could it not be for her patient? She tried to see the other way, the way that other people often seemed to think, but her head was too wrapped up in her own pregnancy and the clear decision she needed to make with it.

x

"Have you noticed any changes in sensation, Mr. Runner?"

Derek was back inside his patient's room, seeing if there was anything different about his feelings since the MRI was pretty much inconclusive as far as results went. Stiles entered the room fairly quickly after that, having just enough time to hear the patient's answer.

"My legs." Mr. Runner shook his head harshly. "I can't feel them at all."

"Grant told me he could when he came in, he could move his legs." His wife, Olivia, looked completely overwhelmed and terrified. "What's happening to my husband?"

"We're going to find out." Derek told them, vigor in his voice. "The MRI didn't show us anything, but the paralysis is rapidly growing throughout his body, and something has to be causing it."

"Has Grant been under an unusual amount of stress lately?"

Even before the patient answered, Derek glared at Stiles like he wished her hadn't opened his mouth and blurted out the first thing that came to his small little yet-to-be-molded-medically brain.

"What's stressful is being in this hospital and not being able to move like I was an hour ago!"

"Of course. Mr. Runner. Excuse us."

A hand on Stiles back, Derek guided him away from the patient and his wife, just slightly out of earshot from them, right next to a curtain that divided his patient's area with the person behind the other side of it.

"Dr. Stilinski."

"What? Sometimes emotional trauma can turn into something physical. I was just trying to be a good doctor."

"Assuming isn't the key to being a good doctor."

"But that happens, right?" Stiles asked.

"Yes.

"Okay then. Hysterical numbness could be caused by stress or emotional baggage.

"You think it's psychosomatic?"

The curtain behind them flung widely as Mr. Hough barged in.

"You're not crazy, man! I know you're telling the truth. Something weird is going on with you!"

"That's enough, Mr. Hough!" Allison yelled, regarding Derek and Stiles with what little dignity she had left, unable to keep her reigns on her patient. They left shortly after, Stiles rolling his eyes as he looked back at Derek.

"What was that about?"

"Psych won't take him back until we clear him. He can see the future." Stiles said it with as much stern sarcasm as he could.

"Am I crazy? Is that what's really wrong with me?" Mr. Runner said, his voice shaky with fear.

"You're not crazy, Mr. Runner. What I'm going to do is order a much more intense level MRI." Derek walked back over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're going to figure out what's causing your paralysis."

x

Taming her small waves of upset stomach, Lydia was resting behind the nurse's station, nibbling on a mediocre turkey sandwich, tossing down the food when she felt another nauseous tendril enveloping her stomach, annoyed that she couldn't even eat now. She didn't have too much time to dwell on her rage toward the fetus growing inside of her, because Stiles and Allison joined her behind the station, finding some haphazard seats around the counters. And it wasn't long until Scott and Isaac invaded the area as well.

"Ooh, is that the turkey from the cafeteria?" Scott asked, grabbing at the sandwich when Lydia waved it toward him, silently giving him the okay to take it away from her.

"It smells." Stiles commented. "I could really use something that doesn't smell like hospital food. Like cheese fries. God, I could go for some cheese fries right now."

"Cheese fries cause love handles, Stilinski." Isaac laughed. "Derek wouldn't like that, would he?"

"I'm not giving up food for a guy." Stiles stated, rolling his eyes. "And I don't like Derek because of his crazy intense gym body. Or vice versa."

"Obviously. It's about what's between his legs that keeps you around." Scott laughed.

"I hate you."

As his friends laughed lightly, Stiles left for other pastures, Lydia standing up to do the same when they looked her over with caution.

"You still feeling the woes of the flu?" Isaac asked.

"Yeah." Lydia nodded. "Totally."

She fled again, unable to talk about her body's changes with her friends when she knew they wouldn't understand what was going on with her mentally.

"I gotta go too. Peter's got me on this heart valve replacement surgery and we're using a cow heart to put in the patient."

"Seriously?"

Scott smiled. "Jealously looks good on you, Lahey. Later."

Allison shook her head as Scott receded from view, catching Isaac's knowing glance in the peripheral of her vision. "Stop."

"It's not too late to call him, you know." Isaac smirked. "Dads love those little calls out of nowhere, just to talk about recipes and stuff."

Not feeling his sudden investment in her life, Allison shook her head. "I'm really enjoying this new side of you, Isaac, but let it go. I'm not calling him."

She left the nurse's station, not wanting to get into the reasons why she wasn't talking to her father or why she was refusing to talk to him now over something so small, especially when she couldn't discuss big issues with him now like she had always wanted to ever since he caused her mother's death.

x

"It's crazy, right?"

Lydia was listening to her patient go on and on, so over the conversation even before it had started. The last thing she wanted to hear was a woman bragging about her pregnancy when all she wanted was to see her own vanish.

"I mean, I'm in my late forties. Having a baby at my age is nothing short of an act of God, you know. We'd given up on having children practically decades ago, and the one time we get drunk at a hotel in Phoenix, we somehow are able to make a baby for the first time."

"Your labs should be back in a couple hours. We can go from there with your decision."

"You understand, don't you? The reason for why I'm having a hard time in coming to a conclusion on this?"

"Mrs. Mirrow, you have advanced-stage carcinoma." Lydia had had it. This was an easy decision. Her patient just couldn't see it for whatever reason. "You're forty-eight years old, so the numbers are on your side for you to survive the surgery. If you don't have this treatment, the numbers are a fourth, a fourth, of what they are with treatment so likely, you won't see your baby take its first breath, let along it walk into school for the first time. So whose life are you more interested in saving?"

Storming out, Lydia couldn't look at the patient anymore. And all it did for her was make her wish that the sixteenth would come sooner.

x

"I still can't believe you did this surgery."

Derek smiled at Stiles' comment. After the MRI told them nothing else even after being a much high reading, the head of neurosurgery had decided to just open him up. There wasn't anything in the MRI that was showing why Mr. Runner was losing sensation throughout his body, but the paralysis was approaching his heart, and if that happened, there'd be no reason to keep going. Derek had to find out what was causing it, and he was hoping that the answer was to look directly into the brain for an answer.

"We've got to save this cord."

"You want me to start?" Stiles stated, his tone hopeful.

"I've got it. I need to cut from the rib cage to the base of the neck here. I need you to hit the bleeders."

"I'm still against this, you know." The intern scoffed. "I still think that doing this surgery could cause more damage if we don't find anything."

"If its and butts were candy and nuts, Dr. Stilinski."

"What?"

"Never mind." Derek laughed. "We're going to find an answer. We have to. His life depends on it. Plus, we know his has a spinal hematoma."

"You're cutting blind."

"Just retract, Doctor. There. Retract, I can't see."

Stiles did so, hoping that Derek really knew what he was doing and they weren't just permanently damaging the spine of their patient with a handful of hopes.

x

Allison reentered Mr. Hough's room for the umpteenth time, trying to get him to sign consent forms for the surgery he needed to help his epilepsy.

"Please, just sign the forms so we can help you."

"I don't sign anything that I don't understand."

"I'd be more than happy to go over them with you, if you'll just let me explain them to you."

"Sorry sweetie, no thanks. Not interested.

"Mr. Hough, the AVM is located in the crucial part of the brain. It's a tangle of blood vessels that could affect your speech if they burst, among about a million other things that could happen if they rupture. It means that your visions really are seizures."

"Are you sure? You're positive that I'm having seizures instead of being psychic?"

"You're not psychic," Allison scoffed. "You're just really good at reading people. You read body language. Being psychic, truly psychic, means that you'd know you'd survive this surgery so why won't you sign the forms?"

"I already told you, Trident, I'm not signing the forms."

The variation in name-calling set Allison on edge, because she recognized the particular one Mr. Hough had just yelled out. "What did you just say?"

"I didn't say anything." He smiled.

"You called me Trident, where did you get that from?"

Mr. Hough didn't answer her, instead deciding to gaze at her with an edge to his eyes and shifting his lips upward like he knew her deepest, darkest secrets. And judging by the knowledge of the nickname her father used to call her, Allison was beginning to think that he did.

x

"Third thoracic laminae. Nothing. I'm not seeing anything."

Stiles was starting to get a little fed up, looking for a tumor or aneurysm that obviously wasn't really there. But Derek was dead-set on this, so he kept looking and looking.

"I'm telling you, Stilinski. It's there."

"We've been doing this for hours, Derek. Maybe he just injured his spinal cord and there's nothing more to it than that."

Just then, the patient's EKG started to bleat like crazy. Both Stiles and Derek looked at each other before looking back to the machine and taking its readouts.

"Pressure's up."

"One-eighty over one-eleven." Stiles agreed. "Pulse in the forties."

"I'm pushing seventy milligrams of diazoxide." Derek said, but when nothing solved the problem, he shook his head. "Autonomic dysreflexia."

"Is there extensive damage to the sympathetic nervous system?" Stiles wondered.

"We've got to find that clot." Derek demanded. "Come on, Stilinski, suction on the bleeders. It's there, I know it's there."

"Derek, he's gonna stroke out if we don't-"

"There! Clean that again. Right. There."

"What? I don't see…oh my god." Stiles hadn't seen it at first, but Derek was right. It was there. Right under their noses the entire time. "Second thoracic vertebrae."

"See? It really is there." Derek smiled smugly. "Suction and let's get this sucker, shall we?"

Once they were finished in removing the clot, Derek and Stiles were scrubbing out in the scrub room while someone transported Mr. Runner back to admitting.

"Say it."

Seeing the cockiness in his eyes, Stiles shook his head. "Not until you give me some details."

"Come on, just say it."

"Fine. You were right."

"Ahh," Derek laughed. "Music to my ears."

"How can you be sure that Grant is going to be okay? That you found the problem, despite the fact that you were right about there being one?"

"I can't, not until we see him post-op. It's part of this whole leap of faith thing I was talking about earlier."

"Faith this, faith that." Stiles shook his head. "How can you be sure what's real and what's not when you're going off of blind trust?"

"You just do." Derek told him. "Some would call this a relationship. People who weren't so hung up on knowing everything all at once."

"Who would call this a relationship, Derek?"

"Me."

He leaned over and kissed Stiles softly on the lips in one good swift motion before he composed himself again and continued to stare down into Stiles' dark loving eyes.

"And I'm just supposed to take that kiss and believe you?"

"You're a fast learner." Derek grinned.

"Give me a reason to believe." Stiles told him. "Give me something that isn't affection or admittedly mind-blowing sex. Give me something like that."

"Wait for it…"

Not getting exactly what Derek was talking about, Stiles was reduced to watching his boss leave the scrub room with a massive grin on his face, knowing something that Stiles clearly didn't, or at least, wasn't privy to just yet.

x

Papers in hand, Lydia walked in on Mrs. Mirrow and handed her the stack of papers she had for her in one efficient sweep. "Here's your discharge papers."

"You don't like me, do you?" Mrs. Mirrow asked candidly. Her husband was gone for the time being, gathering last minute details on getting away from the hospital and dealing with keeping the baby. "You don't like that we decided to keep the baby."

"I'm your doctor." Lydia told her. "It's not my place to agree or "like" what you've decided. It's your choice to make.

"My baby and my husband are going to have a beautiful life together after I'm gone. I've lived my life and this child gets a chance to have that. We're okay, really. We're doing what we think is best.

"And that's all that matters." Lydia nodded.

"I just want you do understand where I'm coming from."

"Well, I don't."

Rolling her eyes, Lydia stormed out of the room, glad that her role in dealing with her pregnant patient was over for the day so that she could focus on herself and deal with what she was doing to her own baby's life when she decided to terminate her own pregnancy.

x

"Mr. Hough, please just sign the forms."

Allison was giving it one more last ditch effort to get Mr. Hough to sign his surgery's consent papers. She had expected a mirror image of their time together previously but when she saw a defeated looking patient before her, she looked confused.

"Mr. Hough? Are you having another seizure?"

"Sure. Yeah, I think I am."

"We're very good doctors, Mr. Hough. You're going to be fine."

She handed him the papers, which he swiftly signed without hesitation.

"It's about to be over. My whole life, I've believed in what I saw, and reveled in the joy of being right when it came to fruition. All day, what you've been trying to tell me, is that I'm wrong, that I've been wrong this entire time. That what I've believed is fiction. And there's a good chance that after the surgery, it's all going to go away."

"If they're real," Allison sighed. She felt for Mr. Hough, but she was still on the fence about his gift. Sure, he somehow knew her childhood nickname, but she was still wary. "You have to believe that you'll have your gift when you come out of surgery."

"Yeah, let's just…I'll have faith that it'll all work out. Let's just get this over with."

x

Finding refuge in the tunnels of the hospital like they usually tended to do, all of Ramsey's interns were gathered around, noshing on jello and pudding while Isaac, the last of them to arrive at the location, strode up to them, confidence oozing from his walk as he wore his best smirk.

"Give it up, you guys." He held up a piece of paper with numbers on it. "Lahey's got a date tonight."

"Oh lord. Who's the victim?" Lydia laughed.

"A very nice and totally hot nurse on 4." Isaac told her, shoving the paper back into his coat pocket. "I wouldn't bother coming home tonight." He said, looking at Allison and Stiles. "I'll probably be louder than you were with Derek."

"Okay, stop picking on me for that. I said I was sorry." Stiles huffed. "Besides, I'm trying to get Derek to take me to his place tonight."

"And he's dragging his feet?" Scott chimed in.

"He's just being…weird or whatever. Sleeping with your boss isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"You're getting great surgeries and great sex. Quit complaining." Allison commanded. "And if Isaac tricks his date into sleeping with him tonight, I'll be the only one in the house not getting any, which is the true tragedy here."

"Go find an intern, Argent. There's tons of them around here, not just us. Or you could save us all the trouble and just ask out Scott already."

Silence blared around them at that moment, as Allison's cheeks turned a violent shade of red and Scott laughed it off and the others just howled with hysteria.

"Would you like to go out with me, Allison?" Scott asked, actually genuine.

"I seriously question my friendship with all of you." In a tangle of embarrassment and resentment, Allison left the tunnels without answering Scott, even though she really wanted to if not for the fact that she was tired of her celibate spell that she had been thwarted with lately.

"Be nice to her, she's got skeletons." Stiles nodded.

"Kinky skeletons, I bet." Lydia said. "She needs to get laid."

"Does she really have a crush on me?"

"Wake up, Scott. You're the only one who doesn't know."

As Lydia left, Scott pondered on the thought a little bit longer, wondering if Allison knew he felt the exact same way and thinking about whether or not he was ready to talk to her about it and risk ruining their great friendship in order to do so.

x

"Thank you, Dr. Stilinski." Mr. Runner said, his wife nodding in agreement. "Thank you so much for believing me."

Stiles just smiled, not wanting to ruin the moment by telling them that the exact opposite had happened. "Is there any more sensation you feel?"

"Stomach feels back to normal. And my feet."

"That's good. That's great, Mr. Runner." Charting down a few things really quickly, he set the binder down and gave the Runners another one of his winnings beaming grins again. "Alright, I'll come by tomorrow and check on you. But you should be out of the woods now."

"Thank you again, Doctor. Be sure to thank Dr. Hale for us as well." Mrs. Runner pleaded.

"Absolutely."

"And hey, watch this. I wasn't sure it'd last, but…" Mr. Runner directed Stiles' attention to his hands, where he was able to, just barely, wag his pointer finger about an inch in place. "It's not much, but-"

"Are you kidding, that's something!" Stiles exclaimed with great emotion. "That's something big. You're doing great."

He left the room, still wearing his smile when he walked down the hall and found Derek, fully dressed in his night clothes, looking him up and down.

"You aren't ready, yet?"

Stiles' face scrunched up in confusion, his nose wrinkling in contrast. "Ready for what?"

"For some answers." Derek laughed. "Hurry up and get changed."

"Derek, where are we going?"

He grabbed Stiles by the loose fold of his lab coat and pulled him in for another quick kiss on the lips, one that lasted a little longer than their last encounter. "Trust me."

x

Waiting in the elevator, Allison was riding with Mr. Hough as the took him back to his room after surgery. She was just going to enjoy the silence of the ride but she looked over and saw that he was waking up, his eyes flickering like a light in need of a bulb change.

"Mr. Hough, how are you feeling?"

Not being able to move much, Mr. Hough didn't do anything but lick his lips. Then, he nodded at her before he spoke. "Your cupcake recipe…one tablespoon coconut extract."

Eyes bewildered, Allison just nodded at him, knowing that his gift was in fact real and that he knew her missing ingredient that she'd been thinking about all day. She gave Mr. Hough a smile, one he gladly returned since he knew that he was still blessed with his foresight as the elevator doors slid open, Allison knowing that she'd take his word for it and use the coconut extract once she got home.

Later in the night, Allison pulled the aforementioned cupcakes from the oven, hoping that Mr. Hough's advice hadn't been misguided. Once she got brave enough to fair the intense white hot contents of the cupcakes, Allison took a bite of the cupcake, and they were perfect. Just like the ones her father used to make.

Feeling a little happy with herself, Allison grabbed the nearby cell phone his had placed down on the kitchen counter before she had started her cooking. Dialing a number she hadn't sent a call to in a very long time, she pressed the phone to her ear and waited for the person to pick up the phone.

"Hey Dad. It's me, Trident." She smiled into the phone as she heard her father exclaim loudly. "I know, it's been a long time, I'm sorry. I've been thinking about you a lot lately." Allison continued to talk on the phone with her father like they'd never stopped talking, and she knew that she'd forgiven him, even before she'd told him the words. She had missed her father. And having him back was a true blessing.

x

Getting out of Derek's car, Stiles had no idea where they were. Actually, he knew they were in the middle of the woods in the dark, but that didn't really help much. He had thought that Derek was taking him to his house, but there wasn't anything visible in the vast nothingness of empty land that seemed to stretched out forever.

"Where are we?"

"Have you always been so impatient with your boyfriends?" Derek snickered. "I'm getting to that. But you wanted details, right?"

Stiles shook his head positively. "Yes, please."

Laughing a little more, Derek furthered his so-called details. "I had two sisters, Laura and Cora, who died in a fire last year that they started, which also took the life of my mother. I don't have any other relatives, besides Peter, and as you've noticed, we aren't on the best of terms because looking at him reminds me so much of my mothers. Alright, so that's the dark and twisty stuff, as you put it earlier. What else is there? My favorite flavor of ice cream is rocky road, because it's fitting and equally delicious. I love bourbon, single barrel preferably, something expensive. I never dance in public, unless I'm with someone who makes me feel like I actually have rhythm. Favorite book? Anything by Edgar Allan Poe. My favorite color is black, but that's because it goes with everything. I love camping, but I haven't done much of it since it was usually something I did with my sisters. And I live in this."

As they had been walking, Derek had lead him to a clearing in the land where a small metal trailer sat up on a little hand built deck that Derek had obviously made himself.

"This is all my land," Derek continued. "I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but I'm rebuilding my life and that's half the fun." He smiled briefly, seeing the questions gathering on Stiles' face. "You don't have to ask me about them, about the bad things, because that's all you get for now. That's all you've earned. The rest, as cliché as it seems, you'll just have to take on faith. I hope that's enough for you."

Not needing a beat or any amount of hesitation to slow him down, Stiles grabbed Derek and kissed him roughly, a silent way of telling Derek that he was still in this. Still willing to see where they were going together, even if Derek still had a few demons to put to rest before he could give Stiles the full details of his life before he moved to Seattle.

Stiles broke the kiss and stared into Derek's bright eyes. "Shall we?"

Smiling at the content warm feelings rushing up inside of him, Derek agreed as he grabbed Stiles' hand. They walked together the short distance to the trailer and quietly made their way inside, knowing that they had each other. And it was definitely enough for the both of them.


	9. The Guy With A Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter operates on fellow doctor from back home. Isaac discovers that the new woman in his life gave him syphilis, enabling the other interns a much needed distraction. Allison and Lydia jeopardize their medical licenses by performing an unauthorized autopsy when their patient dies from unknown complications. Derek operates on Chief Deaton when his vision prompts a surgery for a select few of trusted doctors. Stiles finds the weight of dealing with his father's health unbearable as he decides to tell Derek. And someone from the past threatens to unravel everything that Stiles thought he knew about the seemingly perfect Derek Hale.

The loud ringing of his cell phone brought Stiles to attention from his previous slumber rather quickly. He hurried to answer it before it woke Derek up. He looked at the caller ID before taking the call, really hopeful that Derek wouldn't wake up and start asking for the answers to questions Stiles wasn't ready to give up so easily.

"Hello?"

"Sorry if I woke you, Dr. Stilinski. This is Ms. Henry from the nursing home, calling about your father."

"My father? Is he alright?"

"Oh, he's fine dear. I just wanted to-"

"Can I call you back if he's okay?"

"I was just-"

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

He hung up the call just in time, because he looked over in the bed and saw Derek stirring himself awake. "Lord, who is calling you so early in the day?"

"Wrong number." He smiled down at him.

They quickly got dressed as the smelled the beginnings of breakfast being made in the kitchen. Derek had his shirt half on when his own cell phone began to sound off. He gave it a quick glance and then immediately shut it off without even thinking twice about it.

Stiles finished buttoning up his white and gray plaid shirt of the day up, glancing at Derek as he pulled his shirt all the way on. "You just turned your phone off without answering it? What if that was the hospital?"

"It wasn't." He told him firmly. "Let's go get breakfast."

Derek came over and kissed his temple gingerly before exiting the bedroom, but Stiles wasn't convinced that the call hadn't bothered his boyfriend on some level.

x

Being on the phone with the people from the clinic was a nightmare for Lydia, especially so early in the morning. They had called her, begging her to come in to talk with them about her options on her pregnancy, and she had resorted to taking the phone call to the hallways of the hospital.

"No, I understand what my options are, okay? I've been through them and I'm still sticking to my appointment. My decision isn't going to change. Sixteenth, I'll be there."

She hung up the phone in a hurry when she saw that Peter was heading her way, moseying over to her, giving her a very small smile.

"You didn't answer my page last night."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't on call." Lydia sat matter-of-factly.

He leaned in closer to her. "That's not why I paged you last night." He paused to savor the smile creeping up on Lydia's lips. "You know, you can give me your phone number. There's no rule against that."

"But you're fine breaking the other rules we're breaking?"

"It'd be a lot easier for me to…page you, when I need you."

A fluster of feelings, Lydia left the attending with a smile on her face, even though it was killing her inside not telling him about the baby. But even she knew how he would react, and it was better off for everyone involved if she just took care of it herself, just like she did everything else.

x

Isaac was really hitting it off with the nurse from the other night. He was at the nurse's station, talking to her about the other night and how great it was. He didn't ever think of himself as someone who devoted his life to another person on every level by any means, but he had to admit that he sort of really liked Reyna.

"I had a really great time, Isaac." Reyna smiled up at him, casually tossing her dark ringlets of hair around as she spoke."

"Me too. But," He was a little afraid to admit to her that ever since they had been together, that he'd been feeling a little weird. Itchy. Noticing rashes. It wasn't something Isaac liked to talk about all, least of all with the girl he was pseudo-seeing at the moment. "Have you, noticed any, like um, itching or anything?"

Reyna didn't get to answer, because Allison walked up to them then, cutting off any revelations that Isaac was going to get from the nurse.

"Isaac, hi." Allison smiled, looking over at them and wiggling her nose in approval. "Hello, Reyna. You look great this morning."

"Thanks, Dr. Argent." Reyna mirrored the doctor's beaming grin. "Isaac, I'll, see you later?"

The nurse left the two surgical interns then, having about a million patients to wait on before she was done with her day. Allison just looked on over at Isaac, who was throwing up his nose in pride.

"Yep, she's totally into this."

"You're actually talking to her after you had sex? I'm impressed, Lahey. Maybe you're not so bad after all."

"Bet I can do it better than McCall." Isaac smirked. "That's who you're thinking about at night, right?"

"And just like that, you've shattered the illusion that we're friends." Allison walked away from him.

"I'm just kidding!"

x

"So you have a thing for Allison?"

Stiles and Scott were getting coffee from the cart on the skywalk, a little place where they could talk amongst themselves without the other interns bothering in on the gossip. Stiles found that Scott was the one person who he could talk about Derek to without being subtly ridiculed or teased. Luckily for Stiles, the bond worked both ways.

"She's great. But, I'm just worried about dating a fellow intern."

"Can't be any different than sleeping with your boss." Stiles chuckled.

"But it's different. We all have to survive Ramsey together. How do you think she would react if one of us was dating the other? It'd be different because the distraction would be a little bit more constant."

"Just ask her out on a date, Scott." Stiles took the last of his coffee and let it slither down his throat with eager earnest. "It's not rocket science."

"I gotta go, I'm assigned to Uncle Hale again this morning. I'll catch you later."

"Just go with it, McCall. Trust me. Going with it is fun." Stiles wore a vibrant smile, one that Scott just rolled his eyes at as he left his friend and the skywalk for his patient's room.

When he got there, Peter was already waiting for him, talking to the patient casually as the man's wife stood off the side, laughing at their conversation. And she was massively pregnant. Isaac has apparently been assigned to the patient as well, because he entered the room shortly after Scott did. Peter looked up at Scott upon his entry, standing up from the chair he had pulled over to the patient's side and grunted for his intern to begin presenting.

"Will Sable, presented with blood in his urine and abdominal pain. His work-up came back without evident results, but the urologist suggested a cystoscopy."

"And why is that? Lahey?"

"Checking the bladder."

"Thanks a lot for doing this, Peter." Will said, his eyes full of gratitude that seemed to fill the room. "I know this is a little outside your regular area of extertise and we haven't talked since you left Beacon Hills, but-"

"Will, it's fine." Peter assured him. "You took the time to drive all the way here. Of course I'm going to do everything in my power to help you. Plus, it allows my interns to learn. They need all the help they can get."

Isaac and Scott just looked at each other then, not feeling very good about themselves when the patients and Peter decided to take a couple laughs at their expense.

"You don't think it's anything serious, do you, Peter?"

"This procedure will tell us what we need to know, Liv. You don't need to worry about anything except for growing that baby in there. My godson needs all the time he can get."

"He kicks like crazy." Liv admitted to him.

"Just like his father, no doubt." Peter laughed, slapping Will on the shoulder. "Will, move a little to the left." All while they were talking, Peter was doing the cystoscopy, snaking the camera down his urinary tract to see if they could find the source of his pain. "There."

"What is it? What do you see?"

"Could be a lot of things, Will. No need to worry right now." Peter glanced over at Isaac. "Lahey, take a biopsy of the mass. McCall, schedule a CT." He turned back to his best friend back home at Beacon Hills Hospital, and his alarmingly pregnant wife. "We'll figure this out. I promise."

Will and Liv shared a smile in Peter's direction, hoping that he could figure out why Will was in so much pain all of the sudden when they were having a baby in less than three weeks.

x

Watching the Chief perform was thrilling for Derek, letting him know that the mentor he had had back in Beacon Hills was the same guy here in Seattle. He was a little surprised to find out that the man that had basically made him a doctor had relocated to Washington from California, but it made it all the more easier to pick up his life and leave when everything went down back home. Now Derek was a resident of Seattle, he had an amazingly hot boyfriend, and he was rocking his position as head of Neuro. And watching Deaton perform surgery was the cherry on top to the contentment he felt surrounding his life.

"There's severe damage." Deaton shook his head down in the OR. "We can't do a local resection. We'll have to remove almost all of the colon."

He did his best to stitch up the organ, but he couldn't quite seem to be capable in doing so. He kept trying, but he was missing the stitch completely.

"Move the lights, I can't see."

Stiles, having the opportunity in working on the Chief's surgery that morning, obliged the Chief's request in seconds. No one was brave enough to ask the Chief if he was alright, so he continued working without breathing the wrong way. But Derek wasn't as convinced as the others as far as trusting that Deaton was alright. He was head of Neuro after all, and he was worried that something was seriously wrong with their Chief of Surgery.

x

Being assigned to the same patient together, Allison and Lydia were finding it a little bit of a fresh breath of air compared to their usual divide and compete with one another. They had gotten to their patient's room a few minutes ago, and they were making sure they had every detail of their case down before they decided on the course of action in treatment.

"Your abdomen has been like this for how long, Mr. James?" Lydia asked while Allison continued to chart everything as their patient answered their questions.

"A while now, I guess? It keeps on getting bigger and bigger. That's why I was dragged down here."

"I kept telling him that it growing meant that there wasn't something seriously wrong!" Mr. James' wife spoke up. "Getting bigger like that isn't normal. I told him over and over until he finally agreed to come in."

"We all told him over and over again." Their daughter, in about her late thirties, said, sitting in a chair in the back of the room, clearly not wanting to be that involved with what was happening with her father.

"That being said," Allison said, breaking up the uncomfortable air that had perspired around them. "He has spider anigomas and dullness to percussion."

"And what the hell does all of that medical speak even mean?" The daughter asked for once.

"That your father is about to endure some tests until we find out more information on what's happening with him." Lydia told her, slightly annoyed with the way the daughter was hindering their further medical care by being really snotty and passive aggressive about her concern in her father's condition.

Their daughter scoffed loudly. "I wonder how much this is going to cost, just to fix his own self-inflicted mistakes."

"Lara, that's enough." Her mother barked.

It was enough for Lara to back down though, and Allison and Lydia felt completely unsettled about the entire family dynamic that they decided to just leave the patient's room and start Mr. James' work-up in the safety of the nurse's station, wondering what exactly was going on between the family that had just become their collective patients.

x

A little freaked out by his earlier talk with Reyna, Isaac had decided to do a simple blood work-up on himself, just to be safe that the rash he had acquired wasn't something really serious. The appropriate amount of time had passed for him to wait on the results, so we sauntered up to the pick-up window of the lab and leaned against the counter as nonchalantly as he could possibly muster while he awaited the results.

"I'm picking up a blood test for, uh, Isaac Lahey."

"Don't have anything that I see for that patient."

"Then look again, it's there." Isaac swore. "Lahey, Isaac. I gave them to you about an hour ago. It's just a blood test."

"Oh, right. Here it is."

The tech handed him the results and stepped off the side of the window, just far enough that he would receive his results and it be a private matter. What he hadn't expected was for Allison to drop off something at the lab window also.

"These are for James, Drew. I need them back asap if possible."

"Of course you do, Doctor." The tech sighed, shaking his head at her.

Isaac, finally registering Allison's voice, did his best to try and hide right there, hoping she wouldn't notice. But she walked over to him with ease.

"What'd you get?" Before he could stop her, she snatched the paper from his hands that had his results on them. "This isn't surgical. Why were you assigned a patient that has syphilis?"

Isaac grabbed her arm and stepped inside of a supply closet and quickly locked the door behind them, ripping the paper out of her hands, stuffing it in his lab coat so she couldn't embarrass him any further. But it was too late for that, because a sly grin was glossing over Allison's features then, it suddenly hitting her what was really going on.

"You have syphilis!?" She gawked loudly.

"Will you keep your voice down!? Jesus." Isaac ran a hand through his semi-curly light-brown hair. "Why did this have to happen right now?"

"That's what you get for sleeping around." Allison snickered. "Unless you haven't really been with anyone but Reyna." When Isaac just stood there, avoiding her gaze, she knew that her half-serious assumption was correct, her jar dropping. "Seriously? You haven't been with anyone but Reyna?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in."

"I mean, you always talked a big game."

"Hey, I have amazing game. But I actually sort of like Reyna." He sighed. "And this doesn't really help because now I've got to tell her. I have to, right?"

"If she gave it to you, she would already know. Couple doses of penicillin will knock it right out, though. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Isaac scoffed, his hands throwing up in vehement disagreement. "What am I supposed to tell her? I tried to talk about it with her earlier and she acted like everything was fine and she wasn't going through the same itchy hell that I am right now."

"God, Isaac, you're a doctor. Just tell her."

"Right. Just walk right up to her and say "Hey, Reyna, the other night was awesome, but my crotch is on fire. How about yours?"

Allison felt her head tilt as laughter spilled from her lips. "Maybe not in so many words."

"You're a huge help. Thanks for the talk."

Still smiling, Allison watched as Isaac fled from the supply closet, adamant on figuring out what he was going to do with the girl that had somehow given him syphilis.

x

Back in the OR, Deaton was still performing his surgery. Stiles was just happy to assist the Chief, so he wasn't going to say a thing about the fact that Deaton seemed to be a little off of his game in the OR today. Ramsey was also in attendance of the surgery, who had stayed quiet, weirdly, while her boss operated.

"A little bit more retraction here please." Deaton pleaded.

"This just isn't holding, Sir." Ramsey nodded gingerly. "Just a suggestion, but maybe you need a bigger retractor."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramsey. Nurse, do as she says." But when the nurse went to hand the Chief the retractor, he dropped it. And not in a way that it was just an accident.

"Sorry, Chief."

"It wasn't you." He sighed with a massively heavy heart. He ripped off his gown then, catching Ramsey's eyes. "Dr. Ramsey, you can finish up here, yes?"

Her eyes grew wide. Granted, she was pretty close to the Chief. But she was still just a resident and for the Chief to trust her that much felt like the ultimate passing of the torch, regardless of what was going on with him that had caused him to shift the leading of the operation to her.

"Absolutely, Chief. Thank you for the chance."

As Deaton left the operating room, Stiles looked up to the gallery and saw Derek sitting there, looking overrun with worry that was pretty evident by the state of his face. He watched as Derek left the gallery, presumably to find Deaton and see what was really going on with the Chief that had caused him to give up his surgery without a second thought.

x

In the scanning room while Will was in CT, Scott and Isaac were waiting for the scans to complete and show up on the screen. Isaac was trying to lie low, considering what was storming in his pants as they stood there, but Scott wasn't interested in letting the extremely interesting and entertaining topic go to waste.

"I knew you had it in you, Isaac, but syph? I'm impressed that you've gotten around that much."

"Shut up, Scott." He rolled his eyes, focusing on the developing scans. "This isn't something you can poke fun at."

"Oh, come on. If it was anyone else, you would be milking this for all it's worth."

"That…might be true. But this is a much bigger mess than it looks."

It took Scott a little bit for him to grasp the reasoning behind Isaac's vocal concern. "Oh no. You got this from her, didn't you? The mysterious nurse you were with the other night?"

"We don't have to talk about this." Luckily for Isaac, the results were finished processing then. He pointed at the screen, looking at Scott with severe concern for their patient. "We better find Peter."

X

"Mr. James, you have a condition called ascites."

Lydia and Allison were back inside of Mr. James' room with his wife and daughter again, having the results of their lab tests.

Mrs. James' frown intensified. "That doesn't sound good. What it is?"

"All it means is that the peritoneal cavity has a lot of fluid, which is the abdomen." Allison said in a very calming voice that Lydia was suddenly very envious of. "You're having trouble breathing because the swelling from your stomach is pressing against your lungs."

"Unfortunately, it looks like this is a ramification of liver disease." Lydia added.

"And there it is."

Everyone stared at Lara as she scoffed louder than was probably necessary.

"Don't, Lara."

"Are missing something?"

Mr. James looked like he was a little ashamed of himself, but he just locked eyes with Lydia and Allison before he felt comfortable enough to speak again. "I might have a drink here and there."

"Here and there, my ass."

"Lara!" Mrs. James scolded.

"Why are you even here!?" Her father growled.

"Because I'm not letting you pull your usual crap with Mom and let her think that everything is fine when it's not. You're a drunk and that's all there is to it."

The James family started to yell at each other then, full blown yelling and Allison and Lydia just stood there wondering what they should do while the family threatened each other with punishments that even the likes of Texas wouldn't have agreed to.

x

"It's definitely a growth." Peter said, going over the images from Will's CT that Isaac and Scott had brought to him just a few minutes ago. "It's protruding the bladder, but I don't think it's a tumor. The edges of the mass are a little too variant to be a tumor."

Since Scott was grabbing the results from some further tests, it was just Peter and Isaac. And the intern scoffed at the films. "It sort of looks like an ovary, right?"

"Take this a little more seriously, Dr. Lahey. This guy is an excellent doctor friend of mine from back home. You can't just blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind in front of the patient."

"Sorry, Sir."

Before Peter could scald him a little more, Scott came ambling up to them with the rest of the lab results from the further tests that had gotten done.

"Just to be sure, they did a chromosome analysis of the mass, Dr. Hale." Scott scoffed, handing him the results. "It's crazy, right?"

Looking over the papers, Peter glanced at Isaac for a second and then back at the labs. "Will really does have an ovary?"

x

After calming down the heated battle of dialogue of their patient and his family, Allison and Lydia were on the prowl for Ramsey so they could update her on what was going on with their patient, since she had given them the case and had been pretty clear on being in the know about what they were doing to help him.

"What do we got?" Ramsey asked as they kept walking through the hospital.

"Mr. James is a pretty committed drinker, according to his daughter, anyway."

"And the way the wife is defending him, it's got to be true." Lydia said, halfway rolling her eyes at the action.

"Alright then. So, what do you do next?"

Allison was the first to blurt it out. "Paracentesis."

"Why?"

"The pressure from the lungs will be alleviated if we drain the fluid from his abdomen." Lydia piped up, committed to not let Allison take all the glory for their patient.

Even though she was a little annoyed by how competitive Lydia was seeming to come off, Allison was just glad that Ramsey looked really proud of them and content with the answers they were giving her.

"Good. Get started on it. You've seen one, right?"

"Of course." Lydia said without doubt.

Ramsey walked away before Allison could speak up. She immediately gave Lydia a heavy handed jaw. "I've never seen one."

"You're about to." Lydia grinned. "Come on. We're doing this."

They left the hallway, Allison terrified that they were about to mess something up with the procedure because they weren't accurately prepared to take it on.

x

Reyna was minding her own business, walking around the hospital so she could make her rounds with her patients when she felt an arm pulling her into the stairwell. She almost started screaming until she saw that the culprit behind her adultnapping was Isaac, and her mean glare was easily replaced with a wide smile.

"Hey."

"Hey." Isaac tried his best to smile before he told her the bad news, but she kissed him with white hot passion that he tried to match, but he couldn't with everything that was going on. He pulled apart from her and just let it fall out of his mouth like a bad taste.

"I have syphilis."

She looked at him for a long time before reacting at all. Reyna just looked him and looking at him, not saying a word while Isaac stood there, feeling like an idiot for just throwing it all on the table like he had just done.

"Aren't you going to say anything? We should talk about this."

But Reyna ran out of the stairwell without saying anything to him, leaving Isaac no chance in easing his fears that his relationship with the young nurse was completely DOA.

x

Deaton felt the knock on his office door in his head before he really heard it in his ears. When he looked up and saw that it was Derek standing in his doorway, he just sighed when the worry was easily oozing out of the neuro attending's pores.

"You dropped a retractor."

"It's back." Deaton nodded. "A couple weeks ago, vision in my right eye was clouding my ability to see. It's back."

The concern on Derek's face, the same kind of look he'd had the entire time he had watched the Chief's surgery, seemed to glow more as she stepped inside of the office and closed off anyone from hearing by shutting the door to the expansive room.

"I'll set up some tests. You and I both know what a decline in your vision could be."

"Derek, I'm trusting you with this." Deaton said sternly, standing up from behind his desk. "Gossip spreads around this place faster than sickness, even I know that. Try and be discreet please."

Nodding, Derek smiled a little bit. "Of course, Chief. I'll see what I can do."

x

"She's totally talking about me."

Isaac was carrying his tray as he walked through the cafeteria with Scott, eyeing Reyna and seeing the look on her face as she spotted him, instantly hiding her face and talking closely with the group of nurse friends that she was sitting with at her table in the middle of the room.

"Dude, she gave it to you." Scott said as they made their way toward their unassigned assigned lunch table. "I still can't believe it was Reyna that you hooked up with, but if she's spreading the news about her savage syph around the hospital, she'd damning herself just as much as she's damning you."

They finally took refuge in sitting down at their table, Isaac sighing heavily. "I just don't want everyone in the hospital to know."

"What's up, Syph-Boy?" Lydia said as she slammed her tray down on the table, taking her seat while Allison ran up and joined them just as quietly.

"You heard?" Isaac sighed.

"Everyone knows." She laughed. "At least I got my information from an indirect direct source." Lydia eyed Allison, a movement that wasn't lost on Isaac.

"Allison!"

"I just told Lydia!" In her defense, she really did look sorry. "She practically pried it out of me."

"Chill out, maybe the news hasn't been heard by the whole hospital." Scott tried to ease his worries.

"Hey, Isaac." Stiles said, coming up to them and sitting down next to Isaac as he placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder for a short second. "Sorry about the syphilis."

"You know too!?"

"Heard it from some nurses down the hall." Stiles said, his mouth a thin line of apology.

"At least your secret is out in the open." Allison said, looking at Isaac with humility. "They could know a lot worse about you."

"Sounds like someone's projecting." Lydia gawked at her friend. "Spill, Argent."

"I'm boring." She laughed. "I don't have anything interesting to talk about myself."

"Everyone's got something their hiding from the people they care about."

Stares turned to Stiles so fast as soon as the sentence left his lips, his eyes locking with theirs as he looked up from his lunch, hoping that they wouldn't pry and ask him his deepest darkest skeletons that were buried so deep in his the locked closest of his mind.

A little while later, once they had disbanded from lunch, Isaac had found the courage and determination to convince Scott into helping him get rid of his syphilis by inducing a shot of penicillin into his posterior.

"You're sure you know how to do this?"

Isaac's voice was trembling with fear as he pulled down his pants, blinding Scott with the too-white sheen of his alabaster ass.

"Jesus, Isaac, have you ever heard of the sun?"

"Shut up, I'm serious here. Do you know what you're doing?"

"I'm a doctor. I know how to prink an ass."

"What does that have to do with being a doctor?" Isaac smirked. "Aren't you used to doing that anyway?"

"I have a needle in my hand that's aimed at your ass. Are you sure you want to turn the jokes around on me right now?"

Right when Scott was about to inject the penicillin into Isaac's system, Stiles barged into the room.

"Stiles, get out!"

"Come on, Isaac." Stiles said, joining Scott behind the bent over frame of the friend. "I thought you could use the moral support."

"I don't need support, I need to not have syphilis."

"It's not a big deal, I live with you. Plus, you have a really nice ass."

"Not as good as mine, but yeah, pretty decent." Scott smirked along with Stiles, much to the horror of Isaac.

"Give me that," Stiles snatched the needle from Scott. "You're not doing it right."

"Works for me. I have to check on our patient anyway."

Attempting to leave, Scott started walking out when Isaac caught his wrist with his own hand. "You said you would help me out!"

"You've got Stiles now. Chill. He can do it."

A sigh rumbled through his chest as Isaac watched Scott leave, Stiles in charge on curing his disease now and staring at his backside with wide inviting eyes that Isaac wasn't entirely comfortable with. Not because he was gay, but because he was already in close quarters with Stiles and didn't need to get too content with him. His embarrassment grew even more when Allison walked into the room.

"No!" Isaac yelled. "Leave!"

"Ooh, what's happening here? Did you dump Derek for Isaac, Stiles?"

Stiles laughed as she came behind Isaac as well, hopping up on the counter as she watched what was going on. "Curing our friend Isaac's little venereal disease."

"Allison, where are you?"

Isaac's eyes expanded again when he heard Lydia's voice. He was praying against all the odds opposing him that she wouldn't come into the room with the rest of them as he felt the needle finally hitting his skin, followed by the warm feelings of the fluid entering his system as Stiles retracted the needle.

"Yeah, I'm in here."

"No she's not!"

Of course, Lydia came in anyways, and it didn't take very long for a wicked grin to find its place on her face. "I was just coming to find you and tell you that Mr. James' procedure is scheduled but this is much more interesting." Lydia joined her friends behind Isaac and laughed. "Cute butt."

"Told you." Stiles guffawed.

Since he felt Stiles finished with the other side and injecting the penicillin in his other cheek, Isaac grabbed his pants and quickly covered himself again, tying the strings on his light blue scrub pants, spinning on his heels to face him. "You know, thinking about being half naked in a room with admittedly attractive people is usually a dream for me. But this? I'd rather be sawed in half than have to go through this level of humiliation again."

Isaac stomped loudly out of the concealed medical room then, leaving his friends to laugh at him until the door swung close and cut off the embarrassment that was now turning both sets of his cheeks redder than the blood they were so accustomed to working with.

x

After dealing with aiding Isaac with his syphilis, Stiles was on the skywalk, trying to find some serenity so he could answer his cell phone again as he rang loudly, vibrating off the walls of the hospital before he found himself leaning on the railing of the skywalk. And like this morning, the caller on the other end was the same woman from the nursing home.

"I'm sorry about this morning. I wasn't alone when you called earlier. What was it you were calling to talk to me about?"

"I'm glad I caught you at a better time." Ms. Henry said. "I was calling in hopes of getting you to come by this evening. Tonight's our monthly family night where we have dinner for all the residents and their loved ones." She paused to let some judgment, at least in Stiles' mind, seep into her voice. "You haven't attended any of our family events."

"I realize that, I do, but I'm an intern. A surgical intern, which means that I have to be here whether I have plans or not. I don't own my time anymore."

"The residents really enjoy these events, Dr. Stilinski. It would be really great if you could be a part of it, for your father's sake."

"I'll try." Stiles sighed. "Honestly, I will. That's all I can promise. I'll try my best to get there tonight."

Down the hall, Derek was waiting for Stiles to answer the page he had just sent him while he showed Chief Deaton the results of the MRI they had discreetly managed to get done without anyone in the hospital finding out about it.

"That's it?"

Derek nodded at Deaton's pointing of the scans. "Pressing against your optic nerve is definitely a tumor."

"It's operable though, right?"

"There's a high level of risk, but sure, I can get it."

Not liking the breezy way Derek was talking about his potential surgery, Deaton stood up straight from reading his own scans and looked down at Derek with crazy serious irises flooding a gaze of stern origin at the neurosurgeon. "I love how flippant you're being about the possibility of me losing my sight." Deaton sighed. "This is just great. First I have a tumor and then I'm told there's a vicious outbreak of syphilis hitting this hospital."

"There's a syphilis problem here at Seattle Grace?"

"One problem at a time, Derek. Let's start with mine." Deaton nodded. "I still want to keep this as much of a secret as we can. We've been lucky so far, but someone is bound to find us out soon."

Derek gave Deaton his best calming exterior on his face. "I'm already starting to get a team assembled."

"This is happening tonight, Derek. Don't screw this up."

The Chief of Surgery left the room then, almost mowing down Stiles as he reached to open up the door to the examination room they had been in. Stiles smiled at Deaton, but he was gone before any interaction between them took place. Derek just looked at Stiles as he entered the room, traces of a smile on his face as he looked over at him.

"I got your page?"

"Something's going down tonight, and I want to bring you in. You up for keeping something secret for the Chief?"

x

Draining the fluid from Mr. James' stomach, Lydia was amazed that his body was able to hold so much of it. It was astonishing as Allison finished capping off one bag that he had filled up already.

"This is a crazy amount of fluid." Allison said.

"At least it's not bloody like it first was when we inserted it."

"Will you be quiet?" Allison had bent down to attached another bag for Mr. James and didn't like the way Lydia was so candid about talking so freely in front of the patient.

When she stood back up, Lydia was charting and Mr. James looked like he was sleeping.

"Mr. James, are you awake?"

She spoke loud enough that if he had just slightly nodded off, that he should have stirred upon hearing her. But he still just lay there motionless. Fretting, Allison checked his pulse.

"Oh my god. There's no pulse."

"What?" Lydia said, caught off guard from the interrupting in her charting.

"Lydia, he has no pulse!"

Running over to the side of the wall, Lydia took no time in pressing the large blue button on the wall that signaled a code blue to whoever was part of the code team. Allison started to try an resuscitate him by performing chest compressions as a slew of people came into the room, all of them working hard to get Mr. James away from the light he was seeming to slip away to.

But no matter what they attempted to do, it was too late. Mr. James was dead.

Walking out of the room several moments later, Allison and Lydia were walking toward their destination, which was to find Ramsey and let her know what had just happened, even if it had happened out of absolutely nowhere.

"There's no way he died just like that, no warning and everything?" Lydia mentioned as they rounded a corner.

"It's our fault." Allison said, obviously scared by the pitched quality to her tone. "That blood in the tube when we first put it in? That was all us. We did something."

Lydia wasn't having it, shaking her head in rebuttal. "We didn't do anything, Allison. That procedure was completely by the book. It wasn't us."

Reaching the nurse's station, they came up to the counter where Ramsey was waiting for them. She just gave them a curt little gesture as she flipped through Mr. James' chart, already having read over it and closing it softly.

"I checked your notes. You did everything textbook."

"There's got to be something that we missed. He died while we were in the room." Allison admitted.

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen." Ramsey stated. "His death isn't on you. There was no history of heart problems. His heart just gave out."

"When are we going to know for sure? Have you already scheduled the autopsy?"

"No autopsy."

Sharing a gaze of disbelief, Lydia and Allison both rolled their shoulders at the comment their resident had just delivered to them.

"There isn't going to be an autopsy?"

"Dr. Ramsey, we have no idea-"

Ramsey threw up a hand to silence Lydia's last musing. "The family doesn't want one, alright? It isn't up to us to convince them to go against their wishes."

Walking away from her dumbfounded interns, Ramsey started up the steps to the higher level of the hospital when she was approached by Stiles about some surgery that the Chief was having done, which was news to her, because the Chief had seemed fine when they were in surgery together earlier. But when Stiles showed her the films, there was no denying that Deaton needed an operation. And soon.

Derek came up behind her, not achieving his goal of startling her because, honestly, nothing really startled Ramsey. Ever.

"How goes our Mission: Impossible, under the cloak of darkness, Codename: Head Honcho surgery?"

Stiles and Ramsey shared a rare moment where they just stared at each other at Derek's stitching together of crappy spy-like dialogue. The intern among them just laughed as Ramsey cut her eyes in her boss' direction. "Are you done with embarrassing yourself?"

"Maybe I've been watching too many spy movies lately."

"Definitely." Stiles agreed, still chuckling to himself.

"Cancel your Netflix account." Ramsey rolled her eyes, looking back at Stiles. "Let the Chief know I'm in, just give me a time and a place."

As she left, Ramsey gave Derek a glance of disapproval at his earlier utterance, which causing both Derek and Stiles to laugh as they headed down the hall together.

"She didn't like that, did she?"

"She's right though. You need to clear your Netflix of those damn movies. I can't watch another one for the rest of my life." Stiles squeezed Derek's shoulders as he walked behind him, turning him around to face him. "Nervous yet?"

"About making a mistake and ending my mentor's career forever? What about that should I be nervous about? Derek scoffed sarcastically.

"So, um," Stiles started, not wanting to have the talking to her was about to stir up. "You'd tell me, right? If you've been seeing other people and got something, you'd-"

"You think I'm fallen victim to the syphilis outbreak?!" Derek was appalled at the accusation, but he knew Stiles didn't mean anything by it, that he was just making sure, so he laughed it off. "Dealing with you already takes up enough of my time." He laughed, earning him a playful punch from the shorter man. "When exactly would I have time to acquire syphilis? Besides, we've practically kept the condom company's afloat, especially lately."

Stiles scoffed, but laughed at the same time. "Still, we never made any rules or anything with us."

"You have nothing to worry about, Stiles. But maybe you're right, maybe they're should be some rules. You know, for peace of mind."

They inched closer together, and Stiles so close to Derek's face that he could smell his aftershave from this morning. "Alright."

"Alright."

"Good."

"Really good." Derek said, wagging his eyebrows.

"But no more glow in the dark condoms."

Cackling as they separated, Derek disagreed. "I like the glow in the dark ones."

"Oh, I know you do." Stiles laughed knowingly as his pager went off, stumbling backward as he left Derek in the hallway.

Derek was about to do the same and leave to prepare for Deaton's surgery, but his phone rang its similar chime that it had done this morning when Stiles had questioned him about it. Knowing who the caller was, Derek ended the call quickly. He wasn't about to try and bring that sort of thing back into his life. Not now. So he abandoned the hallway, keeping his mind of the Chief's surgery to distract himself from the beckoning from someone back home in Beacon Hills.

x

Even though Ramsey had told them to let it go, Lydia and Allison both weren't okay with the fact that Mr. James' family didn't want an autopsy to know for sure what killed him so suddenly. They had talked it over with the family, and were of course shot down. But it was mostly the daughter, Lara, that was so against the post-modem procedure. Mrs. James even brought up the possibility of them going through with it, but she didn't want to argue with her strong willed daughter, instead just staring at Allison like she silently was telling her that the autopsy was something that she wanted.

After that, they had relocated to the tunnels to talk about it. Stiles was there already, reading over some surgery plans for something he obviously had going on that they hadn't bothered asking him about because they were so wrapped up in the wake of performing the autopsy despite not having the forms of consent signed by the family.

"You can't just do the autopsy yourselves without authorization." Stiles was shaking his head at them when he heard them talking about going against the family and daring to doubt Ramsey's wrath. "Ramsey will kill you if the family doesn't first."

"Do you really want to let people get the chance to call you 007 for killing someone?" Allison was baiting Lydia, who was still on the fence about defying Ramsey. "An autopsy is a great way to silence the heckling that's sure to happen when people find out."

"Lydia, don't." Stiles begged.

"I don't know." Lydia told them both.

"You saw the way Drew's wife looked at me before we left! She didn't want to say it in front of her defiant daughter, but she wants this autopsy." Allison saw that Lydia still wasn't convinced just yet and decided to turn up the heat on the stakes they were going to face when people talked about them letting a patient pass without just cause. "Think about what they'll say. 'Lydia Martin, license to kill'."

"Alright, I'll do it."

Allison hollered her triumphs, her praising Lydia shaking the walls of the tunnels. Stiles just shook his head at them as closed the procedural book he was studying for his surgery with Derek and Ramsey for the Chief.

"I'm so not a part of this."

"This is like Fight Club, Stiles." Lydia looked at him, suddenly serious and equipping her deadly stares. "No one finds out about this."

"As if I want to risk my place in this program like you two are obviously so eager to do." He scoffed.

"We just need to bypass Ramsey."

"Ramsey knows everything about everyone. She's the Gretchen Wieners of this place." Allison scoffed. "How are we going to do this without her finding out?"

"I guess we'll have to risk it." Lydia sighed.

"She's gonna be busy from seven to eleven. Trust me, you two will be the last thing on her mind tonight."

Lydia furrowed her brow at her friend then, Allison joining in and awaiting his further explanation. "Why and how do you know what Ramsey is up to?"

Stiles lifted himself off of the hospital bed he had been sitting on, ready to turn and run for a place to keep studying for the surgery he was about to assist on. "Can't tell you that. I've got a Fight Club too."

As he left, Lydia pointed her pen at Allison's throat. "If someone does find out about what we're about to do, they're going to call be 007 because I've killed you."

x

Hours later, Derek was just finished up Deaton's surgery. The gallery was locked and they had completely flown under the radar without any finding out about the Chief's operation or even his condition, which was a victory in the eyes of everyone involved considering the rumor mill that was Seattle Grace Hospital.

"There." Derek said to Stiles and Ramsey and the other resident that was in on the operation. "The drain has been sutured in place, the staples are looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself. I'm finished here." Utterly pleased with himself, Derek tilted his head toward Ramsey. "You want to wrap things up here?"

"Sure."

"Great work, everyone. This was a success." Derek said, ripping off his gloves and his gown, but not before winking at Stiles as he left the operating room.

Stiles tried not to smile so big at the gesture Derek had thrown his way, but it was hard not to. To make it a little easier, he looked at Ramsey as she cleaned up the Chief's sutures.

"You think we saved the optic nerve?"

"We'll find out when he wakes up."

"You mean if he wakes up and he's suddenly blind?"

"It's the way it works, Stilinski." She nodded. "Page Argent and Martin. I want them to cover your patients for you when you stay and monitor the Chief."

He wasn't trying to make a face, or sound insincere. But he must have because even as he spoke, he could see on Ramsey's face that she didn't' believe him. "I think they've got all they can handle right now." Keeping the secret of their unauthorized autopsy wasn't something that Stiles had wanted to try and lie about with Ramsey. "Um, yeah, Allison and Lydia have a bunch of labs and everything."

"Oh, you are lying." A wicked grin, weirdly, grew on Ramsey's face as she stepped away from the Chief and took her mask off. "You're a terrible liar." Her face was suddenly stoic again, all traces of her smile erased with her frown lines. That's when it all pieced itself together without Stiles even telling her what they were really doing. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Dr. Ramsey-"

Ramsey grabbed the attention of the other resident still in the room with them. "Take over the rest of this for me." Her eyes honed in on Stiles next. "I know exactly where they are right now."

x

Peter was outside Will's room, saving his friend the shame that came with the fact that he was arguing with his life right now. He was so mad at Liv, he could barely contain himself. During the biopsy on Will's mass, they had discovered that because of the ovary growing inside of him, it rendered Will utterly sterile, totally incapable of ever conceiving children. Which begged the question of why exactly his wife was pregnant when he was unable to help her bear children.

"You're lying to him!"

"I'm making him happy, Peter!" Liv countered. "Why do you want to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to Will? We're happy. We've been trying to have a child for so long."

"That's because he can't!" He tried to keep from spitting in her face just then. "Your entire relationship means nothing anymore. Does he know that you've been cheating on him this whole time?"

"Let this go, Peter. How I got pregnant is between me and Will. It isn't up to you to tell him that he's unable to have given me this baby!"

"Maybe as his friend, you're right. It's not up to his friend to meddle in his life." Peter couldn't argue with that logic. "But he's not just my friend, he's my patient. And his doctor will not lie to him about something like this."

x

Still on the watch for the Chief, Stiles was standing outside of his room when his phone started to ring again. It was the nursing home. Again. Sighing as he answered it, Stiles waited for the guilt to set in, even though he knew there was nothing he should feel guilty about.

"I know I missed the event, but I was in surgery. There was no way that I could make it."

"It's just a shame," Ms. Henry told him, the disappointment ringing loud and clear in Stiles' ears. "Just unfortunate that you couldn't have been here for your father."

"Ms. Henry, it would be a different story if my father wasn't so far gone. If he were lucid, he'd get why I didn't show. He's a surgeon too, he used to pull this all the time. My father and my mother did. Besides, it's not like he ever recognizes me when I show up, so-"

"Today was different." Ms. Henry said. "Today, he knew exactly who you are."

The shock hit Stiles like a bolt of lightning from the Heavens above. "What?"

"Tonight, your father kept asking when his son Stiles was getting off of work at the hospital to come see him."

The earth shattering notion caused Stiles to see stars. He felt woozy. He felt like he was going to emit every dinner he had ever had for the entire span of his life as he hung up the phone. His father…remembered? Today of all days for him to know who the people in his life were, the day Stiles was performing a secret surgery for the Chief. He felt horrible, like he was a waste of a son, that he was betraying his father by not being there enough. The time for self-loathing was cut short when Derek came up to him as he slid the phone back into his pocket.

"You sure are the guy with a secret today." Derek smiled playfully.

The lazy way Derek was acting with him was normal, but Stiles couldn't match the happiness his boyfriend was emitting at the current time. He felt utterly overtaken by the crushing news of his father, the fact that no one knew about him still looming over him like an atomic bomb ready to be set off. It was all too much for Stiles. He felt like a 757 was landing on his lungs, cutting off his oxygen flow and causing him to die a slow and painful gasping death.

"Yeah, it's my father." He said without preamble, unable to keep it a secret anymore. "He isn't off finishing my late mother's medical journals to get them published, he's not traveling or performing surgeries because he isn't a person anymore. Derek, I've been lying to everyone. Even you." Tears threatened to turn Stiles' skin slick with emotion.

Not expecting the secret to be spilling from Stiles' mouth, Derek just moved closer to him and spoke softly, trying not to cause Stiles anymore pain than he was obviously already taking with very shaky strides. "Why?"

"Because he doesn't remember how to the person I knew." Stiles shook his head. "He has Alzheimer's."

Seeing it written all over his face was a lot for Derek to handle. All he wanted to do was comfort Stiles in that moment, but he almost looked too fragile, too vulnerable to be consoled. "How advanced?"

"Very advanced. Early onset." Stiles wiped a tear from his face, but he wasn't sobbing. He refused to break down in front of Derek when they weren't alone together. "He's in a home where they take really good care of him, but I'm the only one who knows he's sick. And then tonight he…I just can't do it anymore. I don't know what to do."

Staring up at Derek, Stiles told himself not to cry as he stared into the loving and understanding face of his boyfriend in that moment. Derek let out a hand, cupping and stroking Stiles' cheek in the smallest gesture he could think of to try and calm him down and let him know that he didn't need to deal with his father's condition alone anymore.

Of course, as the exchanged occurred, neither of them bothered to worry about someone seeing them. Least of all the Chief, who has just woken up from his surgery. And he could definitely see them just outside of his room.

x

Lydia and Allison were almost completely done with closing up Mr. James, having performed the autopsy without proper channels of consent, when Ramsey came barging into the room in the basement of the hospital, where autopsies were regularly performed. Just not by the surgeons themselves.

"Don't. Move."

They looked like deer, caught in the trails of a vehicle's headlights, when she started to stare them down.

"Did you really think that you could get away this doing this without me finding out!? You went against what the family wanted. You stole a body! Have you ever wanted to go to prison? Because you could easily be charged with assault for what you've done! I could lose my license, the hospital could get sued. I could get sued! Were you thinking about ANY of the consequence when you decided to butcher a dead man's body without getting the authority to do so!?" She paused to throw up her hands. "I want to kill you both so bad right now. Do you have anything to say for yourselves!?"

Not really knowing what else she could do, Allison grabbed Mr. James' heart from the scale it had been resting in the entire time Ramsey was savagely handing them their careers. "Ramsey, look at his heart."

"It's huge!" She cried, even though she was still blindly irate with them, she couldn't deny that his heart shouldn't have been as big as it appeared.

"There's a grainy material coming out of it." Lydia said. "And it's over six-hundred grams!"

"We'd like to run some tests." Allison added.

Ramsey scoffed. "Oh, now, on top of everything else you've done, you want to run some tests?"

"I mean, at this point, would it hurt anything?"

"I seriously hate both of you right now." Ramsey's rage wasn't dying down as she rested her hands on her knees, probably thinking up their deaths and staging a suicide note that she was already constructing in her head as she looked at them with blood-curdling vigor.

x

Stiles walked into the Chief's room a little later, checking in on him when his arrival apparently shook the much more experienced doctor awake as Stiles read over the EKG's readouts.

"Stiles."

Realizing that he wasn't asleep anymore, Stiles closed the door and walked over to Deaton.

"He's an attending." Deaton spoke again, rattling the state of mind that Stiles was already finding it hard to stay calm within. "It's not right. You're only an intern."

"You saw us outside your room?" Stiles said, at first horrified, but then he knew what that meant. "Wait, you can see!"

"You know that I knew your mother and father. What do you think they would say if they knew you were sleeping with an attending?"

Stiles smiled at the gesture, even in spite of how he was currently feeling. "It doesn't matter because I would tell them that I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm risking, I know what's at stake. For once in my life, I know what I'm doing and it's good. It's amazing. So no, I don't know what my parents would say if they knew because it wouldn't change it. You frowning upon my relationship with Derek isn't going to do anything either."

He left the Chief of Surgery to soak in his words as he got ready to leave for the day, knowing that nothing could come between him and Derek now that Deaton knew about them. They were ready to take on the world together. And now that Derek was up to speed on his father's medical history, Stiles could rest easy in knowing that he had Derek to fall back on.

x

"We told all of you that we didn't want an autopsy!"

Lara was livid that her father was given an autopsy against their strict ruling on the matter. Ramsey was trying to do damage control as the mother and daughter sat in the confines of a conference room, Lydia and Allison standing off toward the door of the small room, awaiting their cue to speak.

"I know how upset you must be…"

"We're getting an attorney. You can bet your ass on that." Lara stood up out of her chair. "Let's go mom. We can let the lawyer handle it from here."

Before Mrs. James had a chance to follow her daughter's complete control over her, Lydia decided that now was her chance to speak up.

"We know what really killed him." Even if the daughter didn't show instant interest, Mrs. James' inquisitive eyebrow was enough for her to continue her decree. "He had a disease known as hemochromatosis, which caused an excess amount of iron to build up inside the body. That's what caused his heart failure, not the paracentesis."

"What?" Lara begged for more answers. "But I thought it was because of the drinking that kept him so sick."

"And he died knowing that." Mrs. James said, finally finding the ground to stand up for herself. "And you never let either of us forget why you thought he was dying."

"Mom, I-"

"There's more." Ramsey didn't want to hear the blow up between the two of them, so she took their conversation by the reigns and turned. "The condition is genetic."

"Lara could have what killed Drew?"

"If you have it," Allison began. "We'll have caught it in time to treat it before it gets anywhere near the level that your father suffered from it. A simple blood test will tell us if you're a carrier."

"Dr. Martin and Dr. Argent may have just saved your life." Ramsey slid a very important piece of paper between the mother and daughter before her. "If you wouldn't mind signing the consent form, for the autopsy. Just as a formality for possibly saving your life and all."

As they signed the form, Allison and Lydia eyed each other and smiled, knowing that even though they had broken the law and gone against family requests, that they had saved a life in doing what they had done. Which made the day an utter success in each other their eyes.

x

Feeling at peace with the day's occurrences, Derek was freshly clothed in garments that would never be mistaken for scrubs as he waited in the lobby of the hospital for Stiles to be dressed for their nightly date he had suggested they go to after such a heavily endurance-filled day. Derek himself was clad in a nice black button up shirt and a matching pair of navy slacks, his black leather jacket covering his arms. And he beamed with joy when he watched Stiles descend the stairs and make his way over to him at the lobby's lush furniture circle.

"Glad the day's over?" Derek stated, standing up in anticipation of Stiles' arrival before him.

Smiling back at him, Stiles just nodded as he stopped in front of him. "Definitely."

"At whichever restaurant you choose, there's a huge pile of cheese fries waiting for you."

"Thank God for that." Stiles laughed at the mention of his food weakness when he was having a rough day, glad that Derek knew him well enough to know what he needed to truly comfort him after the day that had transpired.

"I wonder what wine pairs well with potatoes lathered in cheese." Derek cackled.

"I don't know, but I think I need the wine just as bad as I need that large platter of greased covered fries."

"Whatever it is, it's all on me."

"This is why I keep you around."

Laughing together, Derek helped Stiles into the jacket that was going to cover his plaid shirt. "You know, we should talk. About the rules and everything."

"Cheese fries and alcohol first, talk later." Stiles nodded.

"You trying to get me wasted so you can take advantage of me?"

He roared with hysterics at Derek's accusation. "I like this whole rules thing."

"Me too." Derek agreed with a smile.

"We should get going."

Derek decided the intern was right, still smoothing out the jacket Stiles was worming his arms into as he grabbed Stiles' bag for him as they prepared to leave the hospital. Stiles was wrapping up a text message on his phone when the older man saw here. Right there, at the end of the lobby waiting area. Derek thought he was fainting when he had to determine that she wasn't a mirage or a heart attack induced hallucination standing just mere feet away from him.

The woman with the gorgeous dark hair smiled at with, a curve of contentment staining her dark red lips as she approached the pair. Derek immediately turned to Stiles, who had placed his phone back in the pocket of his tan khakis and was looking up at Derek with loving eyes.

"Stiles, I am so sorry for this."

The woman reached them, and for the first time, Stiles laid his eyes on her, not understanding at all why Derek had just told him that and why this stranger was suddenly in front of them, her eyes glossing over Stiles himself before finding a final resting place on Derek's face, which had turned sour upon seeing the admittedly gorgeous woman standing with them. Her black faux fur coat caught Stiles eye, but he was still consumed with confusion as Derek gave her a glare that told Stiles that there was a dark, dark history between the two of them.

"Julia." Derek breathed with even, calculated breaths. All Stiles could do was keep turning his head from Derek to Julia in an attempt to understand. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, if you would have answered any of my countless calls today, you'd know then, wouldn't you?" Julia plastered on a smile as she regarded Stiles, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Hi there. I'm Julia Hale."

Unable to understand what was truly happening, Stiles just extended his hand and shook the mystery woman's hand like he would have with anyone. "I'm sorry, 'Hale'?"

Julia mumbled knowingly as she retracted her hand from Stiles and pointed at Derek before gesturing back to the shorter man in front of her. "And you must be the one that's been screwing my husband."

Hearing his heart collapse inside his chest, Stiles saw nothing but black, looking between them and back again over and over as Derek and Julia exchanged a number of silent grimaces at each other while the young Stiles Stilinski heard the truck of heartbreak running over everything that he thought he knew, accepting the fact that he was mere seconds away from needing the dire condition of being under the knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character of Julia here is Jennifer Blake, but I liked her original name on Teen Wolf of Julia better so that's why I used that name instead of Jennifer like she's originally presenting on the MTV show.
> 
> I hope everyone who's read this has enjoyed the ride, but for now, the story ends here. I'll probably write some more on it in the very near future, but for the time being this is how it crumbles. Please don't hesitate in letting me know if I should continue! I love hearing from people who take the time to read this and I respond to everyone who gives a comment. Thanks again for sticking around this seemingly familiar story with different characters. Thank you so much!


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